.. twelve ... thirteen--ah! here's
a hole in my stocking. Thirteen! Thirteen, Veiga dear! The unlucky
number! Wonderful! I'll never throw him over!
RANNVEIG. You're horribly flippant, Kristrun.
KRISTRUN [sits down at the small table, shades her face as she
looks into the ball]. Fancy, Veiga, I see your whole fate in the
ball.
RANNVEIG. Leave the crystal alone, it won't hurt you.
KRISTRUN. As sure as I live--I can see the most trivial events in
your life. I see you by day, in this room here, when your nose
begins to itch, and you steal into the kitchen to take a pinch of
snuff. I see. ... [Looks up; Rannveig has come up to her, and is
about to strike her.]
KRISTRUN [slipping away from her]. Look out, the snuff is dripping
from your nose! [Runs out, Rannveig shuts the door behind her, and
turns around. She passes her finger under her nose, looks at it,
shakes her head.]
HADDA PADDA. You and Runa don't seem to get on any better since
I've been away.
RANNVEIG. We have never gotten along together. ... I don't
understand the young people nowadays. They are merely butterflies-
-all of them.
HADDA PADDA.
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