"Yes, he is. His little sister has been sent to the country, so that she may not fall ill too. No one is allowed to go to him except his mother, who gives him his milk and his medicine and makes his bed."
A silence.
The mother of my little boy looks down at her book and suspects nothing. The father of my little boy looks in great suspense from the window.
"Mother, I want to go to Einar."
"You can't go there, my little man. You hear, he's infectious. Just think, if you should fall ill yourself! Einar isn't bothering at all about chatting with you. He sleeps the whole day long."
"But when he wakes, Mother?"
"You can't go up there."
This tells upon him and he is nearly crying. I see that the time has come for me to come to his rescue:
"Have you promised Einar to go and see him?" I ask.
"Yes, Father. . . ."