Boletta.
Oh yes, poor father,—he says so many things. But when it comes to the point, then. There is no real energy in father.
Arnholm.
No, unfortunately—I suppose there is not. But have you ever talked to him about this? Put serious pressure on him, I mean?
Boletta. No, I can't say that I have.
Arnholm.
Well now really, Boletta, you ought to do so, before it is too late. Why don't you?
Boletta.
Oh, because there is no real energy in me either, I suppose. I probably take after father in that.
Arnholm.
H'm—I wonder whether you don't do yourself injustice there?
Boletta.
Oh no, I'm sorry to say. And then father has so little time to think about me and my future—and not much inclination either. He puts things of that sort aside as much as he can; he is so entirely taken up with Ellida
Arnholm. With whom? How?
