Wangel. Hm--dear friend--there may be sides to the matter that cannot be
explained.

Arnholm. Do you mean anything inexplicable in itself--absolutely
inexplicable?

Wangel. In any case not explicable as far as we know.

Arnholm. Do you believe there is something in it, then?

Wangel. I neither believe nor deny; I simply don't know. That's why I
leave it alone.

Arnholm. Yes. But just one thing: her extraordinary, weird assertion
about the child's eyes--

Wangel (eagerly). I don't believe a word about the eyes. I will not
believe such a thing. It must be purely fancy on her part, nothing else.

Arnholm. Did you notice the man's eyes when you saw him yesterday?

Wangel. Of course I did.

Arnholm. And you saw no sort of resemblance?

Wangel (evasively). Hm--good heavens! What shall I say? It wasn't quite
light when I saw him; and, besides, Ellida had been saying so much about
this resemblance, I really don't know if I was capable of observing
quite impartially.

Arnholm. Well, well, may be. But that other matter? All this terror and
unrest coming upon her at the very time, as it seems, this strange man
was on his way home.

Wangel. That--oh! that's something she must have persuaded and dreamed
herself into since it happened. She was not seized with this so
suddenly--all at once--as she now maintains. But since she heard from
young Lyngstrand that Johnston--or Friman, or whatever his name is--was
on his way hither, three years ago, in the month of March, she now
evidently believes her unrest of mind came upon her at that very time.

Arnholm. It was not so, then?

Wangel. By no means. There were signs and symptoms of it before this
time, though it did happen, by chance, that in that month of March,
three years ago, she had a rather severe attack.

Arnholm. After all, then--?

Wangel. Yes, but that is easily accounted for by the circumstances--the
condition she happened to be in at the time.

Arnholm. So, symptom for symptom, then.

Wangel (wringing his hands). And not to be able to help her! Not to know
how to counsel her! To see no way!

Arnholm. Now if you could make up your mind to leave this place, to go
somewhere else, so that she could live amid surroundings that would seem
more homelike to her?

Wangel. Ah, dear friend! Do you think I haven't offered her that, too? I
suggested moving out to Skjoldviken, but she will not.

Arnholm. Not that either?

Wangel. No, for she doesn't think it w