MÍTRITCH. Well, of course! What a little silly you are, now I come to look at you! Must needs know everything. [Tucks her up again, then stands up to go] There now, lie still and sleep! [Goes up to the oven].
NAN. It gave just one cry, and now there's nothing to be heard.
MÍTRITCH. Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! What is it you can't hear?
NAN. The baby.
MÍTRITCH. There is none, that's why you can't hear it.
NAN. But I heard it! Blest if I didn't hear it! Such a thin voice!
MÍTRITCH. Heard indeed! Much you heard! Well, if you know,—why then it was just such a little girl as you that the bogey popped into his bag and made off with.
NAN. What bogey?
MÍTRITCH. Why, just his very self! [Climbs up on to the oven] The oven is beautifully warm to-night. Quite a treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas!
NAN. Daddy! are you going to sleep?