Hilda—do you know what you are?
Hilda.
Yes, I suppose I am a strange sort of bird.
Solness.
No. You are like a dawning day. When I look at you—I seem to be looking towards the sunrise.
Hilda.
Tell me, Mr. Solness—are you certain that you have never called me to you? Inwardly, you know?
Solness.
[Softly and slowly.] I almost think I must have.
Hilda.