"Charles bought it."
"Is your husband with you?"
"Yes—ja," and she added, brokenly, "Not here; Constantinople—delivery of guns—in September we are to meet—Liverpool." And then she looked up at Magnhild with wide open eyes. What did she mean?
Magnhild wished to go. Rönnaug accompanied her down-stairs, and they both went out to inspect the carriage, about which stood a group of people who now fell back somewhat. Rönnaug pointed out to Magnhild how comfortable the carriage was, and while her head was still inside she asked,—
"Your rooms up-stairs, are they to let?"
"No, it would give me too much trouble."
Rönnaug hastily said "good-night," and ran up the steps.
Magnhild had not gone very far before she felt that she certainly ought to have offered those rooms to Rönnaug. Should she turn back? Oh, no.
This was one of Magnhild's wakeful nights. Rönnaug had frightened her. And this journey? Never in the world would she undertake it.