“I am not coming back.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked arranging her gown; she went to the window, and there sat down on the chair.
“I am tired of you. That’s all.”
“Now you are spiteful, what’s the matter with you? What have I done to you?”
“Nothing, but since we are neither married nor madly in love with each other, I don’t see anything very strange in the fact, that I am going my own way.”
“Are you jealous?” she asked very softly.
“Of one like you! I haven’t lost my senses!”
“But what is the meaning of all this?”
“It means that I am tired of your beauty, that I know your voice and your gestures by heart, and that neither your whims nor your stupidity nor your craftiness can any longer entertain me. Can you tell me then why I should stay?”
Laura wept. “Mogens, Mogens, how can you have the heart to do this? Oh, what shall I, shall I, shall I, shall I do! Stay only today, only to-day, Mogens. You dare not go away from me!”