power into my hand and placed it in yours. That instant, nothing
but my hand lived. Had you thrust it away, I would not now be
living.

INGOLF. How silently happiness steals upon us. We sat alone in the
room, far from the din of the dance. Then it came. I heard its
tread in the quiver of your breath. ... Then I felt it in my hand.

HADDA PADDA. And yet you sat there immovable, and made the very
seconds fight for my life. When I held your hand, I was afraid
lest a single finger tremble--till you closed your hand around my
wrist, and drew me to you. [She leans toward him.]

INGOLF. Do you know what attracted me most to you?

HADDA PADDA. You don't know yourself.

INGOLF. Why not ...?

HADDA PADDA. Because you love me.

INGOLF. But I think I know now.

HADDA PADDA. Well, what is it?

INGOLF. The thing that kept us apart so long.

HADDA PADDA. And that is? ...

INGOLF. Your reticence. That awaiting attitude you just called