HADDA PADDA [opens the door. In her hand, she has a bouquet of violets, freshly gathered. A subdued smile lights up her face. As soon as she looks in, her features become distorted with horror. She takes half a step backwards, holding her hand before her eyes, as if to ward off a blow. A feeble cry, filled with pain, as if torn by force from the throat is expressed in the word No!]
KRISTRUN. It is I you love! It is I you love!
INGOLF [tears himself away]. Let me talk to Hrafnhild alone.
Hadda Padda stands motionless in the doorway, so that Kristrun has to pass her.
INGOLF. May I close the door and talk to you? [Hadda Padda moves within the door frame, and leans against it.]
INGOLF. Hadda, you have seen now that I am no longer worthy of your love.
HADDA PADDA. I have seen nothing. [Throws the bouquet on the table, and sits down on the chaise-longue, with her face turned toward the window.]
INGOLF. Don't say that, Hrafnhild. Even forgiveness demands return, and I cannot return yours.
HADDA PADDA [ Her whole frame trembling ].
INGOLF. I didn't think you could mistake my attitude these last few days. [ Both keep silent. ]