The child’s mother was not shaken by any violently raging feelings when she saw Gösta. It surprised her only that he seemed to consider her of chief importance, when he ought to understand that it now only concerned the child.
“Gösta,” she said gently, “you must help me now, as you once promised. You know that my husband has abandoned me, so that my child has no father.”
“Yes, countess; but that can certainly be changed. Now that there is a child, the count can be forced to make the marriage legal. You may be certain that I shall help you!”
The countess smiled. “Do you think that I will force myself upon Count Dohna?”
The blood surged up to Gösta’s head. What did she wish then? What did she want of him?
“Come here, Gösta,” she said, and again stretched out her hand. “You must not be angry with me for what I am going to say; but I thought that you who are—who are—”
“A dismissed priest, a drunkard, a pensioner, Ebba Dohna’s murderer; I know the whole list—”
“Are you already angry, Gösta?”
“I would rather that you did not say anything more.”
But the child’s mother continued:—