Bernick: Oh, how could you understand--! But I, I--! It is all like candles in a dead-room!
Rummel: Well, let me tell you that you are taking the thing a great deal too seriously.
Sandstad: The boy will enjoy a trip across the Atlantic, and then you will have him back.
Vigeland: Only put your trust in the Almighty, Mr. Bernick.
Rummel: And in the vessel, Bernick; it is not likely to sink, I know.
Krap: Hm--
Rummel: Now if it were one of those floating coffins that one hears are sent out by men in the bigger countries--
Bernick: I am sure my hair must be turning grey--
(MRS. BERNICK comes in from the garden, with a shawl thrown over her head.)
Mrs. Bernick: Karsten, Karsten, do you know--?