Arnholm (sitting down by her). Now tell me, dear Bolette, isn't
there something or other--something definite you are longing for?

Bolette. Perhaps.

Arnholm. What is it, really? What is it you are longing for?

Bolette. Chiefly to get away.

Arnholm. That above all, then?

Bolette. Yes; and then to learn more. To really know something
about everything.

Arnholm. When I used to teach you, your father often said he
would let you go to college.

Bolette. Yes, poor father! He says so many things. But when it
comes to the point he--there's no real stamina in father.

Arnholm. No, unfortunately you're right there. He has not exactly
stamina. But have you ever spoken to him about it--spoken really
earnestly and seriously?

Bolette. No, I've not quite done that.

Arnholm. But really you ought to. Before it is too late, Bolette,
why don't you?

Bolette. Oh! I suppose it's because there's no real stamina in me