Mrs.Holt: Yes--look--she has slung it on the handle of her parasol. The manager's wife, I expect.
Mrs.Rummel: And there is the manager himself, no doubt. He looks a regular pirate. Don't look at him, Hilda!
Mrs.Holt: Nor you, Netta!
Olaf: Mother, the manager is bowing to us.
Bernick: What?
Mrs. Bernick: What are you saying, child?
Mrs. Rummel: Yes, and--good Heavens--the woman is bowing to us too.
Bernick: That is a little too cool--Martha (exclaims involuntarily): Ah--!
Mrs.Bernick: What is it, Martha?
Martha: Nothing, nothing. I thought for a moment--Olaf (shrieking with delight): Look, look, there are the rest of them, with the horses and animals! And there are the Americans, too! All the sailors from the "Indian Girl"! (The strains of "Yankee Doodle," played on a clarinet and a drum, are heard.)
Hilmar (stopping his ears): Ugh, ugh, ugh!
Rorlund: I think we ought to withdraw ourselves from sight a little, ladies; we have nothing to do with such goings on. Let us go to our work again.
Mrs.Bernick: Do you think we had better draw the curtains?
Rorlund: Yes, that was exactly what I meant.
(The ladies resume their places at the work-table; RORLUND shuts the verandah door, and draws the curtains over it and over the windows, so that the room becomes half dark.)
Olaf (peeping out through the curtains): Mother, the manager's wife is standing by the fountain now, washing her face.
Mrs.Bernick: What? In the middle of the marketplace?
Mrs.Rummel: And in broad daylight, too!
Hilmar: Well, I must say if I were travelling across a desert waste and found myself beside a well, I am sure I should not stop to think whether--. Ugh, that frightful clarinet!
Rorlund: It is really high time the police interfered.
Bernick: Oh no; we must not be too hard on foreigners. Of course these folk have none of the deep-seated instincts of decency which restrain us within proper bounds. Suppose they do behave outrageously, what does it concern us? Fortunately this spirit of disorder, that flies in the face of all that is customary and right, is absolutely a stranger to our community, if I may say so--. What is this! (LONA HESSEL walks briskly in from the door on the right.)
The Ladies (in low, frightened tones): The circus woman! The manager's wife!
Mrs.Bernick: Heavens, what does this mean?
Martha (jumping up): Ah--!
Lona: How do you do, Betty dear! How do you do, Martha! How do you do, brother-in-law!
Mrs.Bernick (with a cry): Lona--!
Bernick (stumbling backwards): As sure as I am alive--!
Mrs.Holt: Mercy on us--!
Mrs.Rummel: It cannot possibly be--!
Hilmar: Well! Ugh!
Mrs.Bernick: Lona--! Is it really--?
Lona: Really me? Yes, indeed it is; you may fall on my neck if you like.
Hilmar: Ugh, ugh!
Mrs.Bernick: And coming back here as--?
Mrs.Bernick: And actually mean to appear in--?
Lona: Appear? Appear in what?
Bernick: Well, I mean--in the circus--Lona: Ha, ha, ha! Are you mad, brother-in-law? Do you think I belong to the circus troupe? No,certainly I have turned my hand to a good many things and made a fool of myself in a good many ways--Mrs.Rummel: Hm!
Lona: But I have never tried circus riding.
Bernick: Then you are not--?
Mrs.Bernick: Thank Heaven!
Lona: No, we travelled like other respectable folk, second-class, certainly, but we are accustomed to that.
Mrs.Bernick: We, did you say?
Bernick (taking a step for-ward): Whom do you mean by "we"?
Lona: I and the child, of course.
The Ladies (with a cry): The child!
Hilmar: What?
Rorlund: I really must say--!
Mrs.Bernick: But what do you mean, Lona?
Lona: I mean John, of course; I have no other child, as far as I know, but John, or Johan as you used to call him.
Mrs.Bernick: Johan--Mrs.Rummel (in an undertone to MRS. LYNGE): The scapegrace brother!
Bernick (hesitatingly): Is Johan with you?
Lona: Of course he is; I certainly would not come without him.
Why do you look so tragical? And why are you sitting here in the gloom, sewing white things? There has not been a death in the family, has there?
Rorlund: Madam,you find yourself in the Society for Fallen Women.
Lona (half to herself): What? Can these nice, quiet-looking ladies possibly be--?
Mrs.Rummel: Well, really--!
Lona: Oh, I understand! But, bless my soul, that is surely Mrs.
Rummel? And Mrs. Holt sitting there too! Well, we three have not grown younger since the last time we met. But listen now, good people; let the Fallen Women wait for a day--they will be none the worse for that. A joyful occasion like this--Rorlund: A home-coming is not always a joyful occasion.
Lona: Indeed? How do you read your Bible, Mr. Parson?
Rorlund: I am not a parson.
Lona: Oh, you will grow into one, then. But--faugh!--this moral linen of yours smells tainted,just like a winding-sheet. I am accustomed to the air of the prairies, let me tell you.
Bernick (wiping his forehead): Yes, it certainly is rather close in here.
Lona: Wait a moment; we will resurrect ourselves from this vault.
(Pulls the curtains to one side) We must have broad daylight in here when the boy comes. Ah, you will see a boy then that has washed himself.
Hilmar: Ugh!
Lona (opening the verandah door and window): I should say, when he has washed himself, up at the hotel--for on the boat he got piggishly dirty.
Hilmar: Ugh, ugh!
Lona: Ugh? Why, surely isn't that--? (Points at HILDAR and asks the others): Is he still loafing about here saying "Ugh"?
Hilmar: I do not loaf; it is the state of my health that keeps me here.
Rorlund: Ahem! Ladies, I do not think--Lona (who has noticed OLAF): Is he yours, Betty? Give me a paw, my boy! Or are you afraid of your ugly old aunt?
Rorlund (putting his book under his arm): Ladies, I do not think any of us is in the mood for any more work today. I suppose we are to meet again tomorrow?
Lona (while the others are getting up and taking their leave):
Yes, let us. I shall be on the spot.
Rorlund: You? Pardon me, Miss Hessel, but what do you propose to do in our Society?
Lona: I will let some fresh air into it, Mr. Parson.