“I tell thee, all is as it should be. I am not minded to change it in any way.”
“Yes; to please Thora, thou wilt make some changes. Do, my Father. I love thee so! I am so proud of thy figure, and thou can show even Wolf Baikie how he ought to dance.”
“Well, then, just for thee––I will wash and put on fresh linen.”
“And comb thy beautiful hair. If thou but wet it, then it curls so that any girl would envy thee. And all the women would say that it was from thee, Thora got her bright, brown, curly hair.”
“To comb my hair? That is but a trifle. I will do it to please thee.”
“And thou wilt wet it, to make it curl?”
“That I will do also––to please thee.”
“Then, as we are to dance together, thou wilt put on thy fine white socks, and thy Spanish leather shoes––the pair that have the bright buckles on the instep. Yes, thou wilt do me that great favour.”
“Thou art going too far; I will not do that.”