And the boat with the three men on board rowed in to the Lensmand’s.
XII
When the priest came back that evening he had been weeping. Evil and wrong-doing seemed to flourish all about him. He was wounded and humbled with sorrow; now his wife could not even have the shoes she needed so badly. Enok’s rich offering would have to be returned to the giver, as being stolen goods. And that would leave the priest blank and bare.
He went up to his wife at once. But even before he had passed the door of her room, new trouble and despair came to meet him. His wife was sewing. Garments were strewn about the floor, a fork and a dishcloth from the kitchen lay on the bed, together with newspapers and some crochet-work. One of her slippers was on the table. On her chest of drawers lay a branch of birch in leaf and a big grey pebblestone.
He set about, from force of habit, putting things in order.
“You’ve no need to trouble,” said she. “I was going to put that slipper away myself as soon as I’d done my sewing.”
“But how can you sit and work with the place in such a mess?”
At this she was offended, and made no answer.