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Ulfheim.
[Pointing towards the back.] Oh, certainly! There is a sort of way—right down the face of the precipice yonder
Maia.
There, you see. With a little goodwill
Ulfheim.
—but just you try if you dare go that way.
Maia.
[Doubtfully.] Do you think I can't?
Ulfheim.
Never in this world—if you don't let me help you.
Maia.
[Uneasily.] Why, then come and help me! What else are you here for?
Ulfheim.
Would you rather I should take you on my back?
Maia.
Nonsense!
Ulfheim.
—or carry you in my arms?
Maia.
Now do stop talking that rubbish!
Ulfheim.
[With suppressed exasperation.] I once took a young girl—lifted her up from the mire of the
