“Things are going badly with us, Cordt.”
And, as he was still silent, she pulled herself together with an effort and spoke with closed eyes, constantly rocking to and fro:
“We must obey the law under which we were born ... must we not, Cordt? After all, we are modern people ... both of us. Tired, empty people, if you like. But we do think and feel otherwise than people did when ... when they were the sort of people whom you like. And we cannot alter ourselves. But we can be as happy as it is possible to be ... nowadays, being what we are. Why should we not be happy, Cordt?”
“I am not happy.”
She pressed her hands together and wrung them and bent over them so that her tears fell upon them. Then she turned her wet face to him and asked, softly:
“Then am I no longer pretty, Cordt?”
He stood up and kissed her white forehead:
“That you are,” he said. “But that won’t help us any longer.”
He began to walk up and down. Fru Adelheid wept hard and silently. A little later, she said: