OLAF SKAKTAVL. Know you, Lady Inger,—'tis true that in such things I am blind as a mole; yet seems it to me as though—hm!
LADY INGER. Well?
OLAF SKAKTAVL. ——As though Nils Lykke loved your daughter.
LADY INGER. Then it seems you are not so blind after all; I am the more deceived if you be not right. Marked you not at supper how eagerly he listened to the least word I let fall concerning Elina?
OLAF SKAKTAVL. He forgot both food and drink.
LADY INGER. And our secret business as well.
OLAF SKAKTAVL. Ay, and what is more—the papers from Peter Kanzler.
LADY INGER. And from all this you conclude——?
OLAF SKAKTAVL. From all this I chiefly conclude that, as you know
Nils Lykke and the name he bears, especially as concerns women——
LADY INGER. ——I should be right glad to know him outside my
gates?