STRANGER. I can guess.
LADY. And can you guess that the path to where my parents live in the mountains is too steep for carts to use?
STRANGER. It sounds extraordinary, but I read or dreamed something of the kind.
LADY. You may have. But you'll see nothing that's not natural, though perhaps unusual, for men and women are a strange race. Are you ready to follow me?
STRANGER. I'm ready—for anything!
(The LADY kisses him on the forehead and makes the sign of the cross simply, timidly and without gestures.)
LADY. Then come!
[A landscape with hills; a chapel, right, in the far distance on a rise. The road, flanked by fruit trees, winds across the background. Between the trees hills can be seen on which are crucifixes, chapels and memorials to the victims of accidents. In the foreground a sign post with the legend, 'Beggars not allowed in this parish.' The STRANGER and the LADY.]
LADY. You're tired.
STRANGER. I won't deny it. But it's humiliating to confess I'm hungry, because the money's gone. I never thought that would happen to me.