MOTHER. Well, you are neither sugar nor salt.

INGÉ. I'll spoil my shoes!

MOTHER. You think of your shoes, and your aunt lies ill?

INGÉ. Wait till spring and the mud will be gone.

MOTHER. Wait till spring and your aunt will be gone! Here is the loaf--now
off with you!

[_Ingé takes the loaf and goes, but not willingly._]


SCENE II

TIME: _a few minutes later_.
PLACE: _the muddy road_.

* * * * *

INGÉ.
THE WICKED ELF.

* * * * *

[INGÉ _is seen stopping at the muddy road._]

INGÉ. 'T is too wide to leap!