Ellida.
Yes, I have had three letters from him since. Once he wrote from California and once from China. The last letter I got from him was from Australia. He said he was going to the goldmines; and since then I have heard nothing from him.
Wangel.
That man must have had an extraordinary power over you, Ellida.
Ellida.
Oh yes, yes. That terrible man!
Wangel.
But you must not think any more about it. Never! Promise me that, my dear, my precious Ellida! We will try another cure for you now—a fresher air than this of the inner fiord. The salt-laden, sweeping sea-breezes, dear! What do you say to that?
Ellida.
Oh, don't speak of it! Don't think of such a thing! There is no help for me in that! I know, I feel, that I should not be able to throw it off out there either.
Wangel.
To throw what off, dear? What do you mean?
Ellida.
I mean the terror of him. His unfathomable power over my soul
Wangel.
But you have thrown it off! Long ago; when you broke with him. It is all over, long ago.
