Brovik.
[Has seated himself with difficulty.] Well, you see, it's about Ragnar. That is what weighs most upon me. What is to become of him?
Solness.
Of course your son will stay with me as long as ever he likes.
Brovik.
But that is just what he does not like. He feels that he cannot stay here any longer.
Solness.
Why, I should say he was very well off here. But if he wants more money, I should not mind
Brovik.
No, no! It is not that. [Impatiently.] But sooner or later he, too, must have a chance of doing something on his own account.
Solness.
[Without looking at him.] Do you think that Ragnar has quite talent enough to stand alone?
Brovik.
No, that is just the heartbreaking part of it—I have begun to have my doubts about the boy. For you have never said so much as—as one encouraging word about him. And yet I cannot but think there must be something in him—he can't be without talent.
Solness.
Well, but he has learnt nothing—nothing thoroughly, I mean. Except, of course, to draw.
