Hans Nilsen got up again, moving about as if he were in a stupor, and at last stood opposite her, as if he were about to speak.
She turned her face towards him, and the light fell upon it.
His lips moved, but no sound issued forth, until at last he said: "You are very pale."
"What do you say?" she whispered. His voice was so indistinct that she could not understand him.
He essayed once more to speak, and then, suddenly taking her in his arms, kissed her.
She made no attempt to release herself; but he relaxed his hold, crying: "Lord, help us; what are we doing!"
When the door closed behind him, she hastened across the room, and listened. She heard him stumbling along the passage, heard the house door shut, and heard him pass by the window with a hurried step.
She turned towards the light, her hands were pressed against her heart, the corners of her mouth quivered as with a bitter smile, and young and vigorous though she was, she sank down upon the floor, sobbing.
When Jacob Worse, cheerful and rather "fresh," came groping his way home an hour later, he found his wife reading the Bible, with two candles on the table, and the curtains drawn.
"Good evening," said he, pleasantly. "Is the little wife still sitting up? Is it not bed-time, little Sarah?"