The captain turns again to the snowy landscape.
"What are you gazing at so steadily?" Katrine asks him. "Is there anything particularly interesting to be seen out there?"
"No," he replies; "but when the room is cheerless, one looks out of the window for diversion."
A pause ensues.
"What shall I say to him? what can I say to him?" she asks herself, uneasily. The blood mounts to her cheeks; she stands rooted to the spot, not venturing to approach him. At last, she begins with all the indifference at her command, "You have forgotten our wedding-day today, for the first time. Strange!"
"Very," the captain rejoins, with bitter irony.
Another pause ensues. Katrine is just about to withdraw, mortified, when the captain again turns to her.
"I did not forget. No, I do not forget such things; and, if you care to know, I had provided the yearly, touching surprise in celebration of the anniversary; but I suppressed it at the very last moment."
"And why?"
"Why? A woman of your superior sense should be able to answer that question herself. After having been laughed at eight times for my well-meant attentions, I said to myself finally that it was useless to serve for the ninth time as a target for your sarcasm."