Olof. Christine, dear child, forgive me! You don't understand me!
Christine. Always the same: "You don't understand me!" Oh, I know now what it means. In that moment in the sacristy I matured so completely that I reached my second childhood at once!
Olof. I'll look at your birds and prattle with your flowers, dear heart.
Christine (putting aside the bird-cage). No, the time for prattle is gone by--from now on we shall be serious. You need not fear my boisterous happiness. It was only put on for your sake, and as it doesn't suit your sombre calling, I'll--(She bursts into tears.)
Olof (putting his arms around her and kissing her.) Christine! Christine! You are right! Please pardon me!
Christine. You gave me an unlucky gift, Olof, when you gave me freedom, for I don't know what to do with it. I must have some one to obey!
Olof. And so you shall, but don't let us talk of it any more. Let us eat now--in fact, I feel quite hungry.
Christine (pleased). Do you really know how to be hungry? (At that moment she looks out of the window and makes a gesture of dismay.) Go on, Olof, and I'll be with you in a moment. I only want to get things in a little better order in here.
Olof (as he goes out). Don't let me wait so long for you as you have had to wait for me.
(Christine folds her hands as if praying and takes up a position indicating that she is waiting far somebody about to enter from the street. Pause.)
[Enter Olof's Mother. She passes Christine without looking at her.]
Christine (who has started to meet her in a friendly way, is taken aback for a moment; then she answers in the same tone). No, but if you care to be seated, he will be here soon.
Mother. Thank you! (She seats herself. Pause.) Bring me a glass of water. (Christine waits on her.) Now you can leave me.
Christine. It is my housewifely duty to bear you company.
Mother. I didn't know that the housekeeper of a priest could call herself a housewife.
Christine. I am the wife of Olof with the sanction of the Lord. Don't you know that we are married?
Mother. You are a harlot--that's what I know!
Christine. That word I do not understand.
Mother. You are the same kind of woman as she with whom Master Olof was talking that evening in the beer-shop.