You don't know yourself.
INGOLF. Why not ...?
HADDA PADDA. Because you love me.
INGOLF. But I think I know now.
HADDA PADDA. Well, what is it?
INGOLF. The thing that kept us apart so long.
HADDA PADDA. And that is? ...
INGOLF. Your reticence. That awaiting attitude you just called
pride. I have known other women. They came to me without first
listening to my heart ... but you did not.
HADDA PADDA. I looked into your eyes. I saw the flame in them
increase, the longer they gazed at me.
INGOLF. The human heart is like the mountains: they give no echo
if we get too near.
HADDA PADDA [lets herself slide down at Ingolf's knees, so that he
sits bending over her]. Let me look at you for a long time.--How
long your eyelashes are! Each time you blink, it is as though
invisible petals were sprinkled upon me.
INGOLF [closing her hands in his]. Now you have no hands. ...
Shall I give them to you again? [Lets go, but looks at her one
hand lying in his.] Your nails have a tinge like that of ice in
sunshine.
HADDA PADDA [withdraws her hand, laughing, and gets up]. I am just
thinking ...
INGOLF.
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