"But why did you never tell me before to-day?"
"I should never have told you at all, if it hadn't been for William's sake. I'm proud of the boy; he's been good to me, and a homeless old woman's grateful for a little kindness. Well, now you know it—and now I ask you again to give up Betty Rantzau; there'll be nothing but trouble come of it, if you go on. And they're fond of each other, I may as well tell you that at once."
"That boy—that boy! It's as I said before; he's been the trouble all along."
"This time, at least, it's for your own good."
"That remains to be seen. But I can't get over that business of the hundred and fifty pounds."
"Say no more about it, Knut Holm."
"And that artful old rascal of a Pettersen; to think I should have wasted a wreath on his grave every blessed year since he died. Eleven wreaths at four shillings a time—true, I left out the ribbon last time, that was so much saved. But he shouldn't have had a single flower out of me, if I'd known."
"Then it's agreed that you let William marry Betty?
"I never said anything of the sort. But the hundred and fifty—my head's all going round. How am I to pay you back again? Really, I'm sorry—you must excuse me...."
And he strode out of the room. Miss Trap sat smoothing out her gloves on the table. Thinking matters over, she came to the conclusion that Holm would give in, but the way did not seem quite clear as yet.