“Yes,” she said, and then was silent again.
At a short distance from them, where the garden of a villa reached down to the sea, some children were playing on a landing-stage; a gramophone was singing sleepily inside the house. Now and again the breeze brought the sound of music from the band at the bathing establishment.
“Gert”—Jenny took hold of his hand suddenly—“when I have been a short time with mamma and come back to town again, I shall go.”
“Where?” He raised himself on his elbow. “Where do you think of going?”
“To Berlin.” She felt her voice tremble as she spoke.
Gert looked into her face; neither of them spoke. At last he said:
“When did you make up your mind to go?”
“You know it has been my intention all along to go abroad again.”
“I know. But I mean how long have you been determined—when did you decide to go so soon?”
“At Tegneby.”