She looked up and met his calm eyes.
“You are still down below, among the crowd of our guests. Don’t you know that, Adelheid? They are all empty carriages that drove out at the gate. For, as each one came to shake hands and say good-bye, you entreated him to stay a little longer.”
Fru Adelheid sighed and crossed her hands in her lap. He stood up by the fireplace so that he could see her face.
“I was sitting over there among the flowers, when you came in, and I saw it all. You entered with a gleam and a rustle, accompanied by the whole throng ... you were the fairest of them all. By your side went Martens, supple and handsome. A long way after came his wife ... the woman who wears those tired eyes and that painful smile. She did not even look to see to whom he was offering his homage.”
She puckered her forehead and looked at him angrily.
“Then he begged you to sing the song once more and they crowded round you and added their entreaties to his. You crossed the floor ... with your slow, sure gait.... You always walk in the same way, Adelheid ... like one who is not to be stopped. Your white dress trailed behind you; there was silence in the room.”
Cordt ceased for a moment. Fru Adelheid laid her head back in the chair and closed her eyes.
“Then you sang ... his song ... the one you were singing a minute ago at the old spinet.... Yes, you heard me applauding, Adelheid. He stood beside you and looked at you ... deferentially, happily. And you looked at him to read in his eyes how charming you were.”
“How wicked you make it all seem!” she said.
Cordt bent over her: