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Hilda.
[Stands before him.] Do you know that there's to be dancing presently, down by the band-stand?
Lyngstrand.
Yes, I heard something of it.
Hilda.
I suppose you are very fond of dancing!
Boletta.
[Who is wandering about picking small flowers among the heather.] Oh, Hilda—let Mr. Lyngstrand get his breath.
Lyngstrand.
[To Hilda.] Yes, Miss Hilda, I should like very much to dance—if only I could.
Hilda.
Oh I see; you have never learned.
Lyngstrand.
No, I haven't. But that was not what I meant. I meant that I can't dance on account of my chest.
Hilda.
On account of that "lesion" you spoke of?
Lyngstrand.
Yes, that's it.
Hilda.
Does this "lesion" make you very unhappy?
Lyngstrand.
Oh no, I can't say it does. [Smiling.] For I
