Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Young Countess
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no attempt to escape. Her face lay, white and stony,
on his breast.
What shall a man do when a pale, helpless face
lies so near him, when he sees the fair hair swept
aside, which usually shadows the shining brow, and
the eyelids lie heavily over the gleam of smiling
grey eyes? What shall a man do when red lips
whiten under the gaze of his eyes?
Why, kiss them, of course—kiss the pale lips,
the closed eyes, and white brows.
But at that the young Countess awoke. She threw
herself aside. She was like a steel wand, and he was
obliged to exert all his strength to prevent her
from throwing herself out, till he forced her at last,
conquered and trembling, into a corner of the
sledge.
“See,” he said, quite calmly to Beerencreutz,
“the Countess is the third that Don Juan and I
have carried away this winter; but the other two
hung round my neck with kisses, and she will
neither be kissed by me nor dance with me. Can
you understand these women, Beerencreutz?”
When Gösta had left the courtyard, while the
women were screaming and the men cursing, when
the sleigh-bells rang, and the whips cracked, and
all was shouting and confusion, the men who were
guarding the Major’s wife grew frightened.
“What is the matter?” they thought. “Why do
they shout so?”
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