Halla. I don't mean that.
Arnes (sits down beside her). When I was a child, I used to sail my viking ships on the clouds. Do you want me to foretell your fate?
Halla. You just said that you could not.
Arnes. The clouds tell nothing about our lives. They are only the dreamlands of earth. Will you let me see your arm?
Halla. Why?
Arnes (lifts her arm). You think these lines on your arm are nothing but marks drawn by heather and grass, but if I knew enough, I could read your whole fate in them. Something, perhaps, I can see. Who would believe that these slender arms could be so strong.
Halla (laughing). And what stands written there?
Arnes. You must sit still. Here is a deep, narrow line across your arm, that means sorrow. And there is a big fire. (Stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers.) I can see the tongues of flame. That means that you are loved.
(Kisses her arm.)
Halla (stands up; laughs). Did you burn yourself?