I feigned to be distressed at what had happened, and went about silent and gloomy as the rest, but I did not feel so. I had no hope of Frøken Elisabeth for myself, indeed; still, I was rid of one that stood above me in her favour.
That evening I went over to the churchyard and sat there a while. If only she would come, I thought to myself. And after a quarter of an hour she came. I got up suddenly, entirely as I had planned, made as if to slip away and hide, then I stopped, stood helplessly and surrendered. But here all my schemes and plans forsook me, and I was all weakness at having her so near; I began to speak of something.
“Erik—to think it should have happened—and that, yesterday....”
“I know about it,” she answered.
“He was badly hurt.”
“Yes, yes, of course, he was badly hurt—why do you talk to me about him?”
“I thought.... No, I don't know. But, anyhow, he'll get better. And then it will be all right again, surely.”
“Yes, yes....”
Pause.
It sounded as if she had been making fun of me. Then suddenly she said with a smile: