Tjaelde. Shall I help you?
Mrs. Tjaelde. No, thank you, dear.
Tjaelde (coming forward). Does she suspect? She is always like that—she takes all my courage away from me. But there is no other way! Now—about money? I surely have some gold here somewhere. (Goes to his desk, takes some gold out of a drawer and counts it; then lifts his head and sees MRS. TJAELDE who has sat down on the stair half-way up.) My dear, are you sitting down?
Mrs. Tjaelde. I felt faint for a moment. I will go up now. (Gets up and climbs the stair slowly.)
Tjaelde. Poor thing, she is worn out. (Pulls himself together.) No—five, six, eight, ten—that is not enough. I must have some more. (Searches in the desk.) And when I run short I have my watch and chain. Twenty, twenty-four—that is all I can find. Ah, my papers! I must on no account forget them. The ground is falling away under me! Isn't she coming back? The bag was packed, surely?—Ah, how all this will make her suffer! But it will not be so bad for her if I am away. People will be more merciful, both to her and the children. Oh, my children! (Collects himself.) Only let me get away, away! Thoughts will follow me there, all the same!—Ah, here she is! (MRS. TJAELDE is seen coming down slowly, with a bag which is evidently, heavy.) Shall I help you, dear?
Mrs. Tjaelde. Thanks, will you take hold of the bag?
Tjaelde (takes it; she comes slowly down). It is heavier than it was this morning.
Mrs. Tjaelde. Is it?
Tjaelde. I have some papers to put in it. (Opens the bag.) But, my dear, there is money in this bag.
Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes—some gold that you have given me at odd times. I thought it might be useful to you now.