MAIA.

No, never.

ULFHEIM.

Confound it all then, you must be sure and come up there this very summer!  I’ll take you with me—­both you and the Professor, with pleasure.

MAIA.

Thanks.  But Rubek is thinking of taking a sea trip this summer.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Round the coast—­through the island channels.

ULFHEIM.

Ugh—­what the devil would you do in those damnable sickly gutters—­ floundering about in the brackish ditchwater?  Dishwater I should rather call it.

MAIA.

There, you hear, Rubek!

ULFHEIM.

No, much better come up with me to the mountain—­away, clean away, from the trail and taint of men.  You cant’ think what that means for me.  But such a little lady—–­

    [He stops.

    [The SISTER OF MERCY comes out of the pavilion and goes into
       the hotel.

ULFHEIM.

[Following her with his eyes.] Just look at her, do!  That night-crow there!—­Who is it that’s to be buried?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

I have not heard of any one—–­

ULFHEIM.

Well, there’s some one on the point of giving up the ghost, then—­in on corner or another.—­People that are sickly and rickety should have the goodness to see about getting themselves buried—­the sooner the better.

MAIA.

Have you ever been ill yourself, Mr. Ulfheim.

ULFHEIM.

Never.  If I had, I shouldn’t be here.—­But my nearest friends—­they have been ill, poor things.

MAIA.

And what did you do for your nearest friends?

ULFHEIM.

Shot them, of course.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looking at him.] Shot them?

MAIA.

[Moving her chair back.] Shot them dead?

ULFHEIM.

[Nods.] I never miss, madam.

MAIA.

But how can you possibly shoot people!

ULFHEIM.

I am not speaking of people—–­