Henk had sat down. He did not know what to do, what to say; he only saw Otto before him.
“How could she do it? How could she do it?” That was his only thought.
“Is it better now?” asked Betsy gently.
Eline smiled contemptuously.
“Better—no—but it is cool—the water——”
“Will you have something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
She sobbed no longer, but her tears still flowed. And slowly, almost inaudibly, staring vacantly all the while, she said—
“Oh, not to know what to do—not to know—and then to do a thing like this, against your will. Poor, poor fellow! And this terrible pain—oh God!—it is as if I am going mad.”
“Come, Eline,” said Betsy, “let me take you to your room.”