“Have you seen him?” she repeated.
“I have,” he said, coldly.
Then he looked at Gudrun.
“Have you done anything?” he said.
“Nothing,” she replied, “nothing.”
She shrank in cold disgust from making any statement.
“Loerke says that Gerald came to you, when you were sitting on the sledge at the bottom of the Rudelbahn, that you had words, and Gerald walked away. What were the words about? I had better know, so that I can satisfy the authorities, if necessary.”
Gudrun looked up at him, white, childlike, mute with trouble.
“There weren’t even any words,” she said. “He knocked Loerke down and stunned him, he half strangled me, then he went away.”
To herself she was saying: