Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Ball at Ekeby
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people in Värmland. They were all as unsophisticated
children. They followed every fancy that
drew them. They lived only a superficial life, and
had never analyzed the depths of their souls. But
she was different, as one does become by living
in the world; she could never give herself wholly
to anything. If she loved—yes, whatever it was
she did—it seemed as if one-half of herself stood
and looked on with a cold, scornful smile. She had
longed for a passion that should sweep her away in
unhesitating surrender. And now he had come, the
mighty victor. When she kissed Gösta Berling on
the balcony, she had forgotten herself for the first
time.
And now it came over her again, and her heart
beat so that she heard it. Would she never regain
the mastery over her limbs? She felt a mad delight
in being thrust out from her home. Now she would
be Gösta’s without doubting. How foolish she had
been to force and bridle her love all these years.
Oh, it was glorious to give way to it, to feel her
blood rush madly along. But would she never, never
be freed from those chains of ice? She had been icy
hearted and yet fiery on the surface all her life; now
she was changed, she had a fiery soul in a body of
ice.
Then Gösta felt two arms slip round his neck in
a weak, almost powerless caress. He could only just
feel it, but Marienne meant to give expression to
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