Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/272

 Ellida. [Springs up.] No, that is just what it is not!

Wangel. Not over!

Ellida.

No, Wangel—it is not over! And I am afraid it never will be over. Never in this life.

Wangel.

[In a choked voice.] Do you mean to say that you have never in your heart of hearts been able to forget that strange man?

Ellida.

I had forgotten him. But then, all at once, he seemed to come again.

Wangel. How long ago is that?

Ellida.

It is about three years ago now, or a little more. It was whilst—before the child was born.

Wangel.

Ah! It was then, was it? In that case, Ellida—I begin to understand much more clearly.

Ellida.

You are wrong, dear! This thing that has come over me—oh, I don't think it can ever be understood.

Wangel.

[Looks at her, pained.] To think that for all