Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part two - V
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laughed. “Do you want your lamp? ...” She went into
the study and pulled the door after her. Helge listened an
instant — his mother spoke in a low but angry voice in the
other room.
“Can’t you leave that wretched business alone for once?”
came distinctly through the door; it was Gram speaking.
Jenny turned to Helge: “I am going home now — I have
a headache.”
“Don’t go, Jenny. There will be such a scene if you go.
Stay a little longer. Mother will only be more angry if you
run away now.”
“I cannot stand it,” she whispered, nearly crying.
Mrs. Gram walked through the room. Gram came in and
joined them.
“Jenny is tired; she is going now. I will see her home.”
“Are you going already? Can’t you stay a little longer?”
“I have a headache and I am tired,” murmured Jenny.
“Please stay a little,” he whispered to her. “She” — he
indicated the kitchen with his head — “does not say anything
to you, and while you are here we are spared a scene.”
Jenny sat down quietly and took up her needlework again.
Aagot crocheted energetically at a hospital shawl.
Gram went to the piano. Jenny was not musical, but she
understood that he was, and by and by she became calm as he
played softly — all for her, she felt.
“Do you know this one, Miss Winge?”
“No.”
“Nor you either, Helge? Did you not hear it in Rome?
In my time it was sung everywhere. I have some books with
Italian songs.”
He rose to look for them; as he passed Jenny he whispered:
“Do you like me to play?”
“Yes.”
“Shall I go on?”
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