SOLNESS.

[Fixes his eyes steadily upon her.] I am sure of that now. It must have been you.

HILDA.

[Lively again.] Oh, it was so gloriously thrilling! I could not have believed there was a builder in the whole world that could build such a tremendously high tower. And then, that you yourself should stand at the very top of it, as large as life! And that you should not be the least bit dizzy! It was that above everything that made one--made one dizzy to think of.

SOLNESS.

How could you be so certain that I was not?

HILDA.

[Scouting the idea.] No indeed! Oh no! I knew that instinctively. For if you had been, you could never have stood up there and sung.

SOLNESS.

[Looks at her in astonishment.] Sung? Did _I_ sing?

HILDA.

Yes, I should think you did.

SOLNESS.

[Shakes his head.] I have never sung a note in my life.

HILDA.

Yes, indeed, you sang then. It sounded like harps in the air.

SOLNESS.

[Thoughtfully.] This is very strange--all this.

HILDA.

[Is silent awhile, looks at him and says in a low voice:] But then,--it was after that--that the real thing happened.

SOLNESS.

The real thing?

HILDA.

[Sparking with vivacity.] Yes, I surely don't need to remind you of that?

SOLNESS.

Oh yes do remind me a little of that, too.

HILDA.

Don't you remember that a great dinner was given in your honour at the Club?

SOLNESS.

Yes, to be sure. It must have been the same afternoon, for I left the place next morning.

HILDA.

And from the Club you were invited to come round to our house to supper.

SOLNESS.

Quite right, Miss w.a.n.gel. It is wonderful how all these trifles have impressed themselves on your mind.

HILDA.

Trifles! I like that! Perhaps it was a trifle, too, that I was alone in the room when you came in?

SOLNESS.

Were you alone?

HILDA.

[Without answering him.] You didn't call me a little devil then?