That man must have had an extraordinary power over you, Ellida.
Ellida.
Oh yes, yes. That terrible man!
Wangel.
But you must not think any more about it. Never! Promise me that, my dear, my precious Ellida! We will try another cure for you now—a fresher air than this of the inner fiord. The salt-laden, sweeping sea-breezes, dear! What do you say to that?
Ellida.
Oh, don’t speak of it! Don’t think of such a thing! There is no help for me in that! I know, I feel, that I should not be able to throw it off out there either.
Wangel.
To throw what off, dear? What do you mean?
Ellida.