"Well, it doesn't matter," she said. "I suppose you can look her up. I won't go home with you, but I can walk with you a few moments."
They walked on. Aagot was quiet now.
"I said I have thought of it all night," she continued. "Of course, not all night. All day, I meant. Not all the time, I mean—You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Married ladies! You don't defend yourself very warmly, Irgens."
"What is the use?"
"No, I suppose you love her." And when he was silent she grew violently jealous. "You might at least tell me if you love her!"
"I love you," he answered, "I do not lie; it is you and nobody else I love, Aagot. You can do with me what you like, but it is you." He did not look at her. He gazed down on the pavement and he wrung his hands repeatedly.
She felt that his emotion was genuine and she said gently:
"All right, Irgens, I'll believe you. But I won't go home with you."
Pause.
"What has made you so hostile toward me all of a sudden?" he asked. "Is it this—? He has been your tutor, but I must frankly say that he disgusts me, dirty and unkempt as he is."