Oscar stepped to the door to stop her, but with the shrill cry of a hare that is wounded to death she flung out at him and passed through. She went up-stairs with a slow step, took off her English costume, put it back in the cardboard box, and pushed it under the bed--crying a little and wiping her eyes.
She knew the truth at last--she knew where she stood in Oscar's mind. A simple Iceland maiden--that was all he had ever seen in her! It was she who had merely fascinated him, and Helga whom he loved!
When the door of the sitting-room closed on Thora, Oscar looked at Helga and said:
"Whatever has come over her?"
"Don't you see?" said Helga.
"Why, no--what is it?"
"How stupid these clever boys can he! I could tell you in three words."
"Tell me, then--tell me."
"Thora is jealous."
"You don't mean that?"