That Dirty should suck a stick of liquorice, which she has received from Henrik, while enjoying her other admirer's satire, naturally staggers my little boy. But I explain to him that that is because she is a woman and that that is a thing which can't be helped.
What Bournonville[2] would say, if he could look down upon us from his place in Heaven, I do not know.
But I don't believe that he can.
If he, up there, could see how people dance down here, he really would not stay there.
XIV
There is a battle royal and a great hullabaloo among the children in the courtyard.
I hear them shouting "Jew!" and I go to the window and see my little boy in the front rank of the bandits, screaming, fighting with clenched fists and without his cap.
I sit down quietly to my work again, certain that he will appear before long and ease his heart.
And he comes directly after.
He stands still, as is his way, by my side and says nothing. I steal a glance at him: he is greatly excited and proud and glad, like one who has fearlessly done his duty.