Arnes. If I had found some dead sheep up in the hills with his mark on their ears, I'd gladly have told him so.
Halla. Sleep well! Exit Arnes.
(Halla smooths her hair.)
Enter Bjørn, carrying a riding-whip with a silver-mounted handle and a leather lash; he wears riding-socks reaching above the knees.
Halla. Good evening!
Bjørn (pointing to his feet). I did not take off my socks. I see now that they are not quite clean.
Halla. Will you be seated? May I offer you anything?
Bjørn. No, thank you. I want nothing. (Sits down.) You know I have not far to come. The sorrel and I can make it in fifteen minutes, when we are in the humor.
Halla. How is everything at your place? Have you any news?
Bjørn. That depends on what you mean. Who was that I met in the hall? It was quite dark there.