Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - X
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
leaning against the casement and looking down into the paved
court below, she would feel an overmastering impulse to
throw herself down, merely to do it. But in that very second
she seemed to have actually made the leap in her
imagination and to have felt the cool, incisive tingling that
accompanies a jump from a height. She darted back from the
window to the inmost corner of the room, shaking with horror,
the image of herself lying in her own blood on the hard
stones so vivid in her mind that she had to go back to the
window again and look down in order to drive it away.
Less dangerous and of a somewhat different nature was
the fancy that would seize her when she looked at her own
bare arm and traced, in a kind of fascination, the course
of the blue and deep-violet veins under the white skin. She
wanted to set her teeth in that white roundness, and she
actually followed her impulse, biting like a fierce little
animal mark upon mark, till she felt the pain and would stop
and begin to fondle the poor maltreated arm.
At other times, when she was sitting quietly, she would
be suddenly moved to go in and undress, only that she might
wrap herself in a thick quilt of red silk and feel the smooth,
cool surface against her skin, or put an ice-cold steel blade
down her naked back. Of such whims she had many.
Finally, after an absence of fourteen months, Ulrik
Frederik returned. It was a July night, and Marie lay
sleepless, listening to the slow soughing of the wind, restless
with anxious thoughts. For the last week she had been
expecting Ulrik Frederik every hour of the day and night,
longing for his arrival and fearing it. Would everything be
as in olden times—fourteen months ago? Sometimes she
thought no, then again yes. The truth was, she could not
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
