Svava (who has come forward). One would really think that marriage were a sort of superior wash-house for men—
Riis. Ha, ha!
Svava.—and that men could come there and take a dip when they please—and in what state they please!
Riis. Oh, really—!
Svava. I mean it! And it is flattering—very flattering—for me, as your daughter, to feel that you look upon me as so peculiarly suited for the washerwoman's post! None of that for me, thank you!
Riis. But this is—
Svava. No, just listen to me for a little! I don't think I have said too much, the last day or two.
Riis. No, we have not been allowed to say a word to you.
Svava. Look here, father. You have a fine supply of principles, for show purposes.
Riis. For—?