INGOLF. Your reticence. That awaiting attitude you just called pride. I have known other women. They came to me without first listening to my heart... but you did not.
HADDA PADDA. I looked into your eyes. I saw the flame in them increase, the longer they gazed at me.
INGOLF. The human heart is like the mountains: they give no echo if we get too near.
HADDA PADDA [lets herself slide down at Ingolf's knees, so that he sits bending over her]. Let me look at you for a long time.—How long your eyelashes are! Each time you blink, it is as though invisible petals were sprinkled upon me.
INGOLF [closing her hands in his]. Now you have no hands.... Shall I give them to you again? [Lets go, but looks at her one hand lying in his.] Your nails have a tinge like that of ice in sunshine.
HADDA PADDA [withdraws her hand, laughing, and gets up]. I am just thinking...
INGOLF. What are you thinking?
HADDA PADDA [walks a few steps and stops behind him]. I was lying down outside in the garden to-day. I could not keep awake. I dreamed I stood outside the Cathedral. It was dark inside, but all along the church floor, on either side, was a straight row of unlit candles. I remember all the white soft wicks, peeping half out, waiting for light. Then a sudden gust of wind swept through the whole church, and as it grazed the wicks, all the candles were lighted.
INGOLF [keeps silent].
HADDA PADDA. What do you think the dream means? I think it means happiness.