JULIA. Enough to start with. Come with me, for I cannot travel alone to-day. Think of it—Midsummer Day, on a stuffy train, jammed with people who stare at you—and standing still at stations when you want to fly. No, I cannot! I cannot! And then the memories will come: childhood memories of Midsummer Days, when the inside of the church was turned into a green forest—birches and lilacs; the dinner at the festive table with relatives and friends; the afternoon in the park, with dancing and music, flowers and games! Oh, you may run and run, but your memories are in the baggage-car, and with them remorse and repentance!
JEAN. I'll go with you-but at once, before it's too late. This very moment!
JULIA. Well, get dressed then. [Picks up the cage.]
JEAN. But no baggage! That would only give us away.
JULIA. No, nothing at all! Only what we can take with us in the car.
JEAN. [Has taken down his hat] What have you got there? What is it?
JULIA. It's only my finch. I can't leave it behind.
JEAN. Did you ever! Dragging a bird-cage along with us! You must be raving mad! Drop the cage!
JULIA. The only thing I take with me from my home! The only living creature that loves me since Diana deserted me! Don't be cruel! Let me take it along!
JEAN. Drop the cage, I tell you! And don't talk so loud—Christine can hear us.