Tjaelde. No. (A pause. He puts down the bag and wipes his forehead.)
Mrs. Tjaelde. Henning, shall we pray together?
Tjaelde. What do you mean?
Mrs. Tjaelde. Pray—pray to God to help us? (Bursts into tears. TJAELDE is silent. She falls on her knees.) Come, Henning! You see that all human ingenuity is of no avail!
Tjaelde. I know that, only too well.
Mrs. Tjaelde. Well, try once, in this hour of our greatest need! (TJAELDE appears to be struggling with his emotion.) You never would! You have never confided in us, or in your God!—never opened your heart to any one!
Tjaelde. Be quiet!
Mrs. Tjaelde. But what you concealed by day, you used to talk of in the night. We mortals must talk, you know! But I have lain awake and listened to your distress. Now you know why I am no longer good for anything. No sleep at night, and none of your confidence in the daytime. I have suffered even more than you. (TJAELDE throws himself into a chair. She goes to him.) You wanted to run away. When we are afraid of our fellow-men, we have only Him to turn to. Do you think I should be alive now, if it were not for Him?
Tjaelde. I have thrown myself imploringly at His feet, but always in vain!
Mrs. Tjaelde. Henning, Henning!