He returns her hand-shake, but is silent.
"Do you perhaps intend to be angry with me, brother-in-law?" she says, and looks up at him roguishly. He feels absolutely powerless before her, and can only laugh awkwardly and say: "I--angry? Oh, dear no!"
"It looked rather like it!" she says, and lifting her finger threateningly, she adds: "Oh, I should only just have liked you to attempt such a thing!" Thereupon she sticks her chin into her collar and bursts into a soft chuckle.
"Well, you are funny! he says, with a rather more easy laugh.
"I funny?--never! You go along now; meanwhile I will run in through the garden and fetch Martin."
And she starts to run away, then stops suddenly, puts her finger to her nose and says: "Wait a minute; I will come across to you."
Before he has time to stretch out a helping hand, she had slipped, as nimble as a lizard, in between the boards of the fencing.
"Well, here I am," she says, smoothing out her dress, while she lets the knotted kerchief fall loosely onto her neck, so that a mass of little brown curls escape round her forehead and neck and begin to dance in the wind as if delighted at their newly regained freedom.
His gaze rests with astonishment on the fresh, girlish beauty of this young wife, who behaves like a wild unconstrained child.
She notices the look, and slightly blushing, she passes her hand over the curly disorder which will not be fettered.