His head dropped on his breast.
Yes, it was true enough, no doubt, that God was against him in all his plans and inventions. His prayer had been in vain, despite the brilliant idea of bringing along Hedvig as a sacrifice.
“Well, what do you think I ought to do?” he asked weakly.
“Me! And how’s a simple creature like me to say what you should do? You’re so clever....”
He fancied there was something behind her words, and grasped at it eagerly.
“What d’you mean?”
Fru Egholm kept up her pretence of emptiness for some time, but her speech was crafty as a will-o’-the-wisp, and he followed her till he lost his foothold. Then she said:
“Write to the Brethren, and ask for your money back.”
Egholm looked up with a momentary gleam of light, but pursed up his mouth in a grimace, and said: