Indeed! What is it about? HILMAR. Oh, this railway nonsense again. MRS. RUMMEL. No! Is it possible? MRS. BERNICK. Poor Karsten—is he to have all that worry over again——? RÖRLUND. Why, what can be the meaning of this, Mr. Tönnesen? Consul Bernick gave it plainly to be understood last year that he would have no railway here. HILMAR. Yes, I thought so too; but I met Krap just now, and he told me the railway question was to the fore again, and that Bernick was holding a conference with three of our capitalists. MRS. RUMMEL. I was certain I heard Rummel’s voice. HILMAR. Yes, Mr. Rummel is there, of course, and Sandstad and Michael Vigeland—“Holy Michael,” as they call him. RÖRLUND. H’m—— HILMAR. I beg your pardon, Doctor. MRS. BERNICK. Just when everything was so nice and quiet too! HILMAR. Well, for my part, I shouldn’t mind their beginning their bickerings again. It would be a variety at least. RÖRLUND. I think we can dispense with that sort of variety. HILMAR. It depends upon one’s constitution. Some natures crave for a Titanic struggle now and then. But there’s no room for that sort of thing in our petty provincial life, and it’s not every one that can—— [_Turning over the leaves of_ RÖRLUND’S _book._] “Woman as the Servant of Society”—what rubbish is this! MRS. BERNICK. Oh, Hilmar, you mustn’t say that. You have surely not read the book. HILMAR. No, and don’t intend to. MRS. BERNICK. You seem out of sorts to-day. HILMAR. Yes, I am. MRS. BERNICK. Perhaps you didn’t sleep well last night? HILMAR. No, I slept very badly. I went a walk yesterday evening, by my doctor’s orders. Then I looked in at the club, and read an account of a polar expedition. There is something bracing in watching men at war with the elements. MRS. RUMMEL. But it doesn’t seem to have agreed with you, Mr. Tönnesen? HILMAR. No, it didn’t agree with me at all. I lay tossing all night half asleep, and dreamt I was being chased by a horrible walrus. OLAF. [_Who has come up the garden steps._] Have you been chased by a walrus, Uncle? HILMAR. I dreamt it, little stupid! Do you still go on playing with that ridiculous bow? Why don’t you get hold of a proper gun? OLAF. Oh, I should love to, but——