Dagny.
[Collecting herself.] Yes, yes, I remember.—I know well
Hiördis.
That was the only time; never, never again! I deemed I was bewitched; for that Gunnar could so clasp a womanDagny.] What ails thee? Methinks thou turnest pale and red!
[Stops and looks atDagny.
Nay, nay!
Hiördis.
[Without heeding her.] Aye, the merry viking-raid should have been <g>my</g> lot; it had been better for me, and—mayhap for all of us. That were life, full and rich life! Dost thou not wonder, Dagny, to find me here alive? Art not afraid to be alone with me in the hall, thus in the dark? Deem'st thou not that I must have died in all these years, and that it is my ghost that stands at thy side?
Dagny.
[Painfully ill at ease.] Come—let us go—to the others
Hiördis.
[Seizing her by the arm.] No, stay! Seems it not strange to thee, Dagny, that any woman can yet live who has spent here five such nights?
Dagny.
Five nights?
Hiördis.
Here in the north each night is a whole winter long. [Quickly and with an altered expression.] Yet