She sat there and wept very softly; from time to time when
wiping the dew from the pane, she looked stealthily over towards
Mogens. He sat bowed forward, his traveling-cloak was open, his hat
lay and rocked on the front seat; his hands he held in front of his
face. All the things he had to think of! It had almost robbed him of
his courage. She had had to say good-by to all her relatives and
friends and to an infinity of places, where memories lay ranged in
strata, one above the other, right up to the sky, and all this so that
she might go away with him. And was he the right sort of a man to
place all one's trust in, he with his past of brutalities and
debaucheries! It was not even certain that all this was merely his
past. He had changed, it is true, and he found it difficult to
understand what he himself had been. But one never can wholly escape
from one's self, and what had been surely still was there. And now
this innocent child had been given him to guard and protect. He had
managed to get himself into the mire till over his head, and doubtless
he would easily succeed in drawing her down into it too. No, no, it
shall not be thus--no, she is to go on living her clear, bright girl's
life in spite of him. And the carriage rattled and rattled. Darkness
had set in, and here and there he saw through the thickly covered
panes, lights in the houses and yards past which they drove. Thora
slumbered. Toward morning they came to their new home, an estate that
Mogens had bought.
Pages:
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64