Tjaelde. Thank you very much, Mr. Vicar. Like you, I hope that the intimate relations between parent and child that exist here—
The Vicar. It has always been a pleasure to me to come into your most hospitable house.
Tjaelde. May I have the honour of drinking a glass of wine with you? (They drink to each other.)
The Vicar. Excellent champagne, my dear sir!
Lind (to HOLM). It pains me to hear what you say. Is it possible that this town, which owes so much to Mr. Tjaelde, repays him with such ingratitude?
Holm (in a low voice). One never can quite confidently rely on him.
Lind. Really? I have heard others sing his praises so loudly, you know.
Holm (as before). You misunderstand me. I mean his position—
Lind. His position? That must be merely envy! People are often so unjust towards those whose enterprise has lifted them above the heads of the crowd.
Holm. At any rate I assure you it was not from—