Fru Adelheid sat with her back against the chair and stared into the fire with strange eyes:
“Cordt ... do you know ... that sometimes, when I am merriest ... outside ... it is as though I heard little children crying.”
He sat silent.
“I hear little children crying, Cordt. When I am dancing ... and sometimes when I am singing. And at the theatre ... when there are many lights and people and I am happy ... then it comes so often. Then I hear little children crying ... far, far away, but still I can hear them distinctly ... I can never help hearing them ... Cordt ... do you know what it is?”
Adelheid looked at him and turned her eyes to the fireplace again:
“Sometimes it happens differently,” she said. “When I hear a child crying ... when it is really a child crying ... a strange child, which has nothing to do with me, which I know nothing at all about ... I needn’t even see it, Cordt ... but then I have to cry myself.”
She was silent for a little. Then she turned her face to him and asked:
“Do you know what that is, Cordt?” And he looked at her calmly and said again:
“Yes, I know, Adelheid.”