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and warm. Kiss me warm! You’re white and soft, white
and smooth—”
He had thrown his arms around Marie, and pressed the
terrified child close to him. At that moment, Shoemaker’s
Anne woke and saw her patient sitting up and fondling
a strange woman. She lifted her prayer-book threateningly
and cried: “H’raus, thou hell-born wench! To think of the
shameless thing sitting here and wantoning with the poor
dying gentleman before my very eyes! H’raus, whoever
ye are—handmaid of the wicked one, sent by the living
Satan!”
“Satan!” shrieked Ulrik Christian and flung away Marie
Grubbe in horror. “Get thee behind me! Go, go!” he made
the sign of the cross again and again. “Oh, thou cursed
devil! You would lead me to sin in my last breath, in my
last hour, when one should be so careful. Begone, begone,
in the blessed name of the Lord, thou demon!” His eyes
wide open, fear in every feature, he stood up in bed and
pointed to the door.
Speechless and beside herself with terror, Marie rushed
out. The sick man threw himself down and prayed and
prayed, while Shoemaker’s Anne read slowly and in a loud
voice prayer after prayer from her book with the large
print.
A few hours later Ulrik Christian was dead.
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