Asta.
[In the doorway.] Look at all those people running down to the pier!
Allmers.
What can it be? [Looks out for a moment.] No doubt it’s those street urchins at some mischief again.
Borgheim.
[Calls, leaning over the verandah railings.] I say, you boys down there! What’s the matter?
[Several voices are heard answering indistinctly and confusedly.
Rita.
What do they say?
Borgheim.