Olof. Well, I won't repent—and why should I repent of an act that implies the carrying out of God's own judgment? Forward, then, in the name of the Lord. [Exeunt.]
[Enter Harlot, who kneels at a grave which she has strewn with flowers.]
Harlot. Hast Thou punished me enough now, O Lord, to pardon me?
[Enter Christine quickly.]
Christine. Have you seen Master Olof, goodwife?
Harlot. Are you his friend or his enemy?
Christine. Do you mean to insult me?
Harlot. Pardon me! I haven't seen him since the last time I prayed.
Christine. You look so sorrowful! Oh, I know you now! It was you to whom Olof was talking that night in Greatchurch.
Harlot. You mustn't let it be seen that you are talking to me. You don't know who I am, do you?