Nonsense!


ULFHEIM.

--or carry you in my arms?


MAIA.

Now do stop talking that rubbish!


ULFHEIM.

[With suppressed exasperation.] I once took a young girl--lifted her
up from the mire of the streets and carried her in my arms. Next my
heart I carried her. So I would have borne her all through life--
lest haply she should dash her foot against a stone. For her shoes
were worn very thin when I found her---


MAIA.

And yet you took her up and carried her next your heart?


ULFHEIM.