"Is that your son standing there behind you?" he began in a harsh voice.
"They say so."
"His name is Ovind, is it not?"
"Yes, they call him Ovind."
"He has been to one of those Agricultural Schools in the south, hasn't he?"
"Yes, something of that kind."
"H'm, my girl, my granddaughter, Marit seems to have lost her senses in these latter days."
"That's a pity."
"She will not marry."
"What?"