The Baron spoke of my accident—that unfortunate shot. Was I well again now? Pleased to hear it.
Now who had told him of that? I asked:
“And how did you hear of that, Baron?”
“Oh, who was it, now? Fröken Mack, I think. Was it not you, Fröken Mack?”
Edwarda flushed hotly.
I had come so poor! for days past, a dark misery had weighed me down. But at the stranger's last words a joy fluttered through me on the instant. I did not look at Edwarda, but in my mind I thanked her: Thanks, for having spoken of me, named my name with your tongue, though it be all valueless to you. Godnat.
I took my leave. Edwarda still kept her seat, excusing herself, for politeness' sake, by saying she was unwell. Indifferently she gave me her hand.
And Herr Mack stood chatting eagerly with the Baron. He was talking of his grandfather, Consul Mack:
“I don't know if I told you before, Baron; this diamond here was a gift from King Carl Johan, who pinned it to my grandfather's breast with his own hands.”
I went out to the front steps; no one saw me to the door. I glanced in passing through the windows of the sitting-room; and there stood Edwarda, tall, upright, holding the curtains apart with both hands, looking out. I did not bow to her: I forgot everything; a swirl of confusion overwhelmed me and drew me hurriedly away.