do you really mean, my dear doctor?

Wangel. Haven't you noticed that the people from out there by the open
sea are, in a way, a people apart? It is almost as if they themselves
lived the life of the sea. There is the rush of waves, and ebb and flow
too, both in their thoughts and in their feelings, and so they can never
bear transplanting. Oh! I ought to have remembered that. It was a sin
against Ellida to take her away from there, and bring her here.

Arnholm. You have come to that opinion?

Wangel. Yes, more and more. But I ought to have told myself this
beforehand. Oh! I knew it well enough at bottom! But I put it from me.
For, you see, I loved her so! Therefore, I thought of myself first of
all. I was inexcusably selfish at that time!

Arnholm. Hm. I suppose every man is a little selfish under such
circumstances. Moreover, I've never noticed that vice in you, Doctor
Wangel.

Wangel (walks uneasily about the room). Oh, yes! And I have been since
then, too. Why, I am so much, much older than she is. I ought to have
been at once as a father to her and a guide. I ought to have done my
best to develop and enlighten her mind. Unfortunately nothing ever came
of that. You see, I hadn't stamina enough, for I preferred her just as
she was. So things went worse and worse with her, and then I didn't
know what to do. (In a lower voice.) That was why I wrote to you in my
trouble, and asked you to come here.

Arnholm (looks at him in astonishment). What, was it for this you wrote?

Wangel. Yes; but don't let anyone notice anything.

Arnholm. How on earth, dear doctor--what good did you expect me to be? I
don't understand it.

Wangel. No, naturally. For I was on an altogether false track. I thought
Ellida's heart had at one time gone out to you, and that she still
secretly cared for you a little--that perhaps it would do her good to
see you again, and talk of her home and the old days.

Arnholm. So it was your wife you meant when you wrote that she expected
me, and--and perhaps longed for me.

Wangel. Yes, who else?

Arnholm (hurriedly). No, no. You're right. But I didn't understand.

Wangel. Naturally, as I said, for I was on an absolutely wrong track.

Arnholm. And you call yourself selfish!

Wangel. Ah! but I had such a great sin to atone for. I felt I dared not
neglect any means that might give the slightest relief to her mind.

Arnholm. How do you really explain the power this stranger exercises
over her?