A woman’s voice outside the hut. The blood rushed to my head — it was Edwarda. “Glahn — Glahn is ill, so I have heard.”

And my washerwoman answered outside the door:

“He’s nearly well again now.”

That “Glahn — Glahn” went through me to the marrow of my bones; she said my name twice, and it touched me; her voice was clear and ringing.

She opened my door without knocking, stepped hastily in, and looked at me. And suddenly all seemed as in the old days. There she was in her dyed jacket and her apron tied low in front, to give a longer waist. I saw it all at once; and her look, her brown face with the eyebrows high-arched into the forehead, the strangely tender expression of her hands, all came on me so strongly that my brain was in a whirl. I have kissed her! I thought to myself.

I got up and remained standing.

“And you get up, you stand, when I come?” she said. “Oh, but sit down. Your foot is bad, you shot yourself. Heavens, how did it happen? I did not know of it till just now. And I was thinking all the time: What can have happened to Glahn? He never comes now. I knew nothing of it all. And you had shot yourself, and it was weeks ago, they tell me, and I knew never a word. How are you now? You are very pale: I should hardly recognize you. And your foot — will you be lame now? The Doctor says you will not be lame. Oh, I am so fond of you because you are not going to be lame! I thank God for that. I hope you will forgive me for coming up like this without letting you know; I ran nearly all the way . . . ”

She bent over me, she was close to me, I felt her breath on my face; I reached out my hands to hold her. Then she moved away a little. Her eyes were still dewy.

“It happened this way,” I stammered out. “I was putting the gun away in the corner, but I held it awkwardly — up and down, like that; then suddenly I heard the shot. It was an accident.”

“An accident,” she said thoughtfully, nodding he............