Mad? What makes you think such a thing?
Hilda.
Oh, there would be nothing so wonderful about it. Didn’t her mother go mad? She died mad, I know.
Boletta.
Yes, I should like to know what you don’t poke your nose into. All I say is, don’t go chattering about it. Be good now—for father’s sake. Do you hear, Hilda?
[Wangel, Ellida, Arnholm, and Lyngstrand come up from the right.
Ellida.
[Points away towards the background.] It lies out there.
Arnholm.
Yes, of course; it must be in that direction.