He sat up in bed. “Do you know, Karen,” he said, “there is no doubt that that Sören Kvikne, who came and offered to give evidence, was sent!”
“What do you mean?” she said, standing still with the tray in her hand.
“Can you tell me what interest that poor man could have in going and giving false evidence that was so easy to disprove?”
“No, no?” She still stood there, and hardly dared to offer him the coffee.
“No, Karen,” he said; “the fact is that Norby had bought him. Herlufsen of Rud, who once pretended he was on my side, is in the ring too, as I might have known beforehand. And he lent this man of his in order to set this trap for me. Upon my word it was well calculated. It made me ridiculous, and increased people’s suspicion. It was as diabolical as it could be!”
“Are you quite sure now, Henry?”
“Sure?” He became still more angry. “Sure? Good heavens!”
“Well, because I can’t imagine how people can be so wicked.”
“No, you can’t imagine, although you have to see it every blessed day. I begin to think you’d rather it were I that was wicked.”