Lyngstrand.
No, not in the least. But after my mother died, my father wouldn’t have me hanging about at home; so he sent me to sea. On the voyage home, we were wrecked in the English Channel; and that was a grand thing for me.
Arnholm.
How do you mean?
Lyngstrand.
It was in the wreck that I got my lesion—this weakness in my chest, you know. I was in the ice-cold water so long before they came and rescued me. So then I had to give up the sea—Oh yes, it was a great stroke of luck.
Arnholm.
Indeed? You think so?
Lyngstrand.
Yes; for the lesion is nothing to speak of; and now I am to have my heart’s desire, and to be a sculptor. Only think—to be able to model in the delicate clay that yields so exquisitely under your fingers!