She looked hard at him to see whether he meant this too, and then turned her face to the wall. He could see from the curve of her body that she was struggling to keep back her tears, and he tried to turn her round to him; but she stiffened herself.
“I won’t live with grandmother!” she whispered emphatically, “I won’t!”
“And yet you’re fond of her!”
“No, I’m not! I can’t bear her! She told the woman next door that I was only in the way! It was that confounded child’s fault that she couldn’t get into the Home, she said; I heard her myself! And yet I went about and begged all the food for her. But then I left her!” She jerked the sentences out in a voice that was quite hoarse, and crumpled the sheet up in her hands.
“But do tell me where she is!” said Pelle earnestly. “I promise you you shan’t go to her if you don’t want to.”
The child kept a stubborn silence. She did not believe in promises.
“Well, then, I must go to the police to find her, but I don’t want to do that.”
“No, because you’ve been in prison!” she exclaimed, with a short laugh.
A pained expression passed over Pelle’s face. “Do you think that’s so funny?” he said, winking his eyes fast. “I’m sure grandmother didn’t laugh at it.”
Johanna turned half round. “No, she cried!” she said. “There was no one to give us food then, and so she cried.”