Before going upstairs, Karina asked the servant for burn ointment. She knocked on the cloakroom door.

—Come in,— Gaspar responded. He had already changed clothes, and the pajamas he had worn earlier were carelessly thrown on the floor.

—Are your legs okay? I brought you some burn ointment,— Karina asked, standing at the door.

Gaspar nodded. —Thanks.—

—No problem, the ointment is from your house anyway. I'll just leave it here for you to apply. I'll go out first.—

—No, apply it for me. It was your porridge that burned me.—

—Hey! Why aren’t you making sense? Did I make porridge just to burn you on purpose?—

—I didn’t say...