"It is by some one else, then."
"Yes, it just came floating of itself."
"Then you can surely repeat it to me."
"No, no; it is not altogether that either, Arne. Do not ask me any more." She must have hid her face in the bedclothes, for the last words seemed to come out of them.
"You are not as kind to me now, Eli, as I was to you!" he said, and rose.
"Arne, there is a difference—you do not understand me—but it was—I do not know myself—another time—do not be angry with me, Arne! Do not go away from me!" She began to weep.
"Eli, what is the matter?" He listened. "Are you feeling ill?" He did not think she was. She still wept; he thought that he must either go forward or backward.
"Eli!"
"Yes!"
They both spoke in whispers.