SJÖBLOM. How can I?
STRANGER. Ignorance is pardonable! And now listen to me. I wanted to enter the navy, made a trial cruise as mid-shipman, seemed to become seasick, and was rejected! But I could stand the sea, and my sickness came from having drunk too much. So my career was spoiled, and I had to choose another.
SJÖBLOM. What have I got to do with the navy? I had been dreaming of Rome and Paris——
STRANGER. Oh, well, one has so many dreams in youth, and in old age too, for that matter. Besides, what's the use of bothering about what happened so long ago?
SJÖBLOM. How you talk! Perhaps you can give me back my wasted life——
STRANGER. No, I can't, but I am under no obligation to do so, either. That trick with the yarn I had learned at school, and you ought to have learned the proper names of the colours. And now you can go to—one dauber less is a blessing to humanity!—There's Mrs. Westerlund!
SJÖBLOM. How you do talk. But I guess you'll get what's coming to you!
MRS. WESTERLUND enters.
STRANGER. How d'you do, Mrs. Westerlund? I am Mr. Arvid—don't get scared now! I have been in America, and how are you? I am feeling fine! There has been a fire here, and I hear your husband is dead—policeman, I remember, and a very nice fellow. I liked him for his good humour and friendly ways. He was a harmless jester, whose quips never hurt. I recall once——
MRS. WESTERLUND. O, merciful! Is this my own Arvid whom I used to tend——