'What is your name?' he said. 'Who are you?'
'I am Ingrid, whom you saw at Upsala many years ago, and whom you comforted because she could not learn to dance on the tight-rope.'
This went back to the time he could partly remember. Now he did remember her.
'How tall and pretty you have grown, Ingrid!' he said. 'And how fine you have become! What a beautiful brooch you have!'
He had been looking at her brooch for some time. He thought he knew it; it was like a brooch of enamel and pearls his mother used to wear. The young girl answered at once.
'Your mother gave it to me. You must have seen it before.'
Gunnar Hede put down the violin and went up to Ingrid. He asked her almost violently:
'How is it possible—how can you wear her brooch? How is it that I don't know anything about your knowing my mother?'
Ingrid was frightened. She grew almost gray with terror. She knew already what the next question would be.
'I know nothing, Ingrid. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why you are here. Why don't I know all this?'