Hilde. Yes, I think it's most fascinating. I take that liberty.
Bolette. Hilde, you really are a dreadful child!
Hilde. That's just what I want to be—out of spite. (Looking down.) At last! I shouldn't think Arnholm liked coming up-hill. (Turns round.) By the way, do you know what I noticed about Arnholm at dinner?
Bolette. Well?
Hilde. Just think—his hair's beginning to come off—right on the top of his head.
Bolette. Nonsense! I'm sure that's not true.
Hilde. It is! And then he has wrinkles round both his eyes. Good gracious, Bolette, how could you be so much in love with him when he used to read with you?
Bolette (smiling). Yes. Can you believe it? I remember I once shed bitter tears because he thought Bolette was an ugly name.
Hilde. Only to think! (Looking down.) No! I say, do just look down here! There's the "Mermaid" walking along and chatting with him. Not with father. I wonder if those two aren't making eyes at one another.
Bolette. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! How can you stand there and say such a thing of her? Now, when everything was beginning to be so pleasant between us.