Gudmund, our kinsman!
MARGIT.
Gudmund Alfson! Here! How can you think—?
SIGNE.
Oh, I am sure of it.
MARGIT.
[Crosses to the right.] Gudmund Alfson is at the wedding-feast in the King's hall; you know that as well as I.
SIGNE.
Maybe; but none the less I am sure it was he.