“Hedvig is mad,” she said and jumped up as she sat on her chair, for she had a curious trick of being able to jump whilst sitting.
“There now, she is spoiling everything,” thought Peter, and gave her a pinch under the table. Quite right, old Hermansson did not seize Brundin by the collar and kick him out. Instead he rose with slow dignity, and took up the case and the brooch:
“I will teach this ill-bred girl how to receive a well-meant gift,” he said, with an air that promised full amends to Brundin. Then he stalked off after Hedvig.
He found her lying full length on her bed in her white frock, which looked like a shroud. She lay there dry-eyed staring up at the ceiling.
“Now put this brooch in your frock, Hedvig, and go down and say thank you nicely,” he said.
A shiver passed through her and the skin on her thin arms looked like goose flesh.
“Please, please, leave me alone,” she begged.
“Put the brooch on at once!”
“No, no, it is sinful,” she stammered and turned her face to the wall.
Then old Hermansson thought he ought not to insist any longer. He left the case on the table beside the bed and went downstairs again.