He gauged Vang’s hunger by the rumbling of his own empty paunch, and made every effort to persuade him.
“A fine bird, a delicious bird; the size of a drake as nearly as can be.”
Egholm was not quite sure whether a duck or a drake would be the larger, but took the word as it came into his head, to help him in his need.
Vang could not resist. He smacked his lips, and said:
“I could go down to Father’s place, of course. They can’t refuse me anything there, after all, though they do keep me waiting and make things as uncomfortable as they can. If only I could be sure your wife wouldn’t mind....”
“Not a bit, not a bit,” said Egholm cheerfully, relieved that all was well again. He had been cruel, by an unfortunate chance, but now he had wiped that out. Briskly he took up the parcel with the delicious bird, and even played ball with it as he went towards the dark-room door. The business in there before sickened him unspeakably.
There was a moment of deadly silence as he opened the door, but hardly had he taken a step forward when he ran against a shadow that would not let him pass. Next moment he felt Hedvig’s skinny hands like claws, one at his chest, the other gripping his throat, as she hissed out:
“You dare to touch Mother again—you dare! Quick, Mother, take Emanuel and run!”
Egholm was more astonished than angry at first. What was all this?