ELLIDA.
Well, then, I’ll try to. How will you, as a sensible man, explain to yourself that--(Looks round, and breaks off.) Wait a moment. Here’s a visitor.
(LYNGSTRAND comes along the road, and enters the garden. He has a flower in his button-hole, and carries a large, handsome bouquet done up in paper and silk ribbons. He stands somewhat hesitatingly and undecidedly by the verandah.)
