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Fieldbo.
And are things going tolerably at home? Your wife?
Aslaksen.
In bed, as usual; coughing and wasting away.
Fieldbo.
And your second child?
Aslaksen.
Oh, he's a cripple for the rest of his days; you know that. That's our luck, you see; what the devil's the use of talking about it?
Fieldbo.
Let me look at you, Aslaksen!
Aslaksen.
Well; what do you want to see?
Fieldbo.
You've been drinking to-day.
Aslaksen.
Yes, and yesterday too.
Fieldbo.
Well, yesterday there was some excuse for it; but to-day
Aslaksen.
What about your friends in there, then? Aren't they drinking too?
Fieldbo.
Yes, my dear Aslaksen; that's a fair retort; but circumstances differ so in this world.
