He tossed back the hair from his forehead and clenched his fists:
“No,” he said. “You did not. That is your disgrace and your judgment.”
“Cordt ... Cordt ... suppose I had had....”
“Yes ... if you had had a lover and were here to-day, then I should take your hand and lead you to our son and say to him, ‘Here is your mother, who has been unhappy. She loved your father and her love died when the man came who was more to her than he. She has not known a really happy day in all these years, because her fate was too strong for her. Now she has come to ask for your affection and needs it.’”
He crossed the room and then came and stood by her again:
“Get up, Adelheid.”
She rose from the floor and sat down in her chair again, with her white hands crossed in her lap, silently and quietly. He looked at her and it was as though her humble obedience added to his anger:
“Where did you go on the day when you broke the bonds of your marriage, because the air in the old room was too pure for you and too strong? Where have you been since?”
“I went to God.”
Cordt laughed: