'So something is going to happen; we are going to have a home of our own again,' said Vava. 'But I don't see why that should make you so melancholy; it is not very flattering to us.'
'It's not that! You know I am just as keen about this house business as ever I was, and I consider I worked it very cleverly, for you would never have come here but for me. Confess now, would you?' said Eva.
'No, I don't suppose we should; but I don't know that you "worked it," as you call it, quite honestly,' replied Vava.
'If every one were as honest as you are, which means saying out just what you think, the world would be a very disagreeable place to live in,' retorted Eva.
Vava did not make any reply; she was beginning to feel a little of Eva's depression, for it did not seem promising to begin their new life together by quarrelling.
Presently Eva, who forgot what she had said five minutes after she had said it, remarked, 'You may laugh as much as you like.'
Vava was not laughing, but Eva did not notice that.
'But I have a presentiment that something will happen in this house. I woke up this morning with a dreadful weight on my mind, just as if some one were dead, and it's a dreadful feeling. Have you ever had it?'
'The feeling that some one were dead? Not unless it was true,' replied Vava.
'But it's not true now—at least as far as I know—so it must be a presentiment; or else why should I feel like this to-day of all days, when I was in such good spirits yesterday?' she demanded.