KRISTRUN. Perhaps she is.
INGOLF. We won't pass there then. Let's rest here for a moment. [Sits down.]
KRISTRUN. You act as if Hrafnhild were still your sweetheart.
INGOLF. What do you mean?
KRISTRUN. I thought you wanted to show me the greater consideration. But it is quite the contrary. Sometimes you are positively hard to me, just to spare Hrafnhild every conceivable annoyance.
INGOLF. Do you remember the day after—. When she walked around trying to smile to every one. She was like a sick butterfly. You didn't complain then that I was too considerate to her.
KRISTRUN [disregarding his remark]. You and she—you wear the rings—you are the lovers in every one's opinion! And I have to endure it.
INGOLF. You gave your consent for us to wear the rings till we leave here.
KRISTRUN. My consent, yes! If it is a consent that you made me pity her. I don't think she needs any pity now.
INGOLF. Yes, it is very strange,—to-day, to-day and yesterday she has been tingling with joy.