The loss of the child. What else should I mean?
Asta.
[Recovering her self-control.] Little Eyolf is gone, yes.
Borgheim.
And what more does that leave you to do here? You have not the poor little boy to take care of now. You have no duties—no claims upon you of any sort.
Asta.
Oh, please, Mr. Borgheim—don’t make it so hard for me.
Borgheim.
I must; I should be mad if I did not try my uttermost. I shall be leaving town before very long, and perhaps I shall have no opportunity of meeting you there. Perhaps I shall not see you again for a long, long time. And who knows what may happen in the meanwhile?
Asta.