MRS. HEYST. I won't allow it. She's my own child—
ELIS.—And my sister.
MRS. HEYST. What do you mean to do?
ELIS. I don't know. I can't think any more.
MRS. HEYST. But I can. Eleonora, the child of sorrow, has found happiness, tho' it's not of this world. Her unrest has turned to peace, which she sheds upon others. Sane or not, she has found wisdom. She knows how to carry life's burdens better than I do, better than all of us. Am I sane, for that matter? Was I sane when I thought my husband innocent altho' I knew that he was convicted by the evidence, and that he confessed? And you, Elis—are you sane when you can't see that Christine loves you, when you believe that she hates you?
ELIS. How can I be in the wrong? Didn't she go out with my false friend last night?
MRS. HEYST. She did, but you knew about it. Why did she go? Well, you should be able to divine the reason.
ELIS. No. I cannot.
MRS. HEYST. You will not. Very well, then you must take the consequences.
[The kitchen door opens a little and Lina's hand is seen with evening paper. Mrs. Heyst takes paper and gives it to Elis.]