Lyngstrand.
She too must live for his art. I should think that must be such happiness for a woman.
Boletta.
H’m,—I am not so sure——
Lyngstrand.
Oh yes, Miss Wangel, believe me. It is not only all the honour and glory she enjoys through him; that, I should say, is almost the least part of it. But that she can help him to create,—that she can lighten his labour by being ever at his side, and tending him, and making life thoroughly comfortable for him. It seems to me that must be such a delight for a woman.
Boletta.
Oh, you don’t realise how selfish you are!
Lyngstrand.
Am I selfish? Good heavens——! Oh, if you only knew me a little better——. [Bends forward towards her.] Miss Wangel,—when I am gone,—and I shall be soon——