KRISTRUN. And how did it break?
RANNVEIG [enraged]. At least I didn't play with it. I never played with anybody else's feelings.
KRISTRUN. There—there, don't snarl so, you're simply barking—bow, wow!
RANNVEIG [furious]. How many have you made fools of already?
KRISTRUN. Let me see—. [Counts on her fingers.] One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, [throws off one shoe, and counts on her toes] eleven... twelve... thirteen—ah! here's a hole in my stocking. Thirteen! Thirteen, Veiga dear! The unlucky number! Wonderful! I'll never throw him over!
RANNVEIG. You're horribly flippant, Kristrun.
KRISTRUN [sits down at the small table, shades her face as she looks into the ball]. Fancy, Veiga, I see your whole fate in the ball.
RANNVEIG. Leave the crystal alone, it won't hurt you.
KRISTRUN. As sure as I live—I can see the most trivial events in your life. I see you by day, in this room here, when your nose begins to itch, and you steal into the kitchen to take a pinch of snuff. I see.... [Looks up; Rannveig has come up to her, and is about to strike her.]
KRISTRUN [slipping away from her]. Look out, the snuff is dripping from your nose! [Runs out, Rannveig shuts the door behind her, and turns around. She passes her finger under her nose, looks at it, shakes her head.]