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husband, sometimes came like that—when they had
been unusually wild over there at Ekeby.
He stood there confessing and begging forgiveness.
He described the evil powers which tempted
him from all he loved best—from her and the
children. But he did love them.
While he played, she got up and dressed, hardly
knowing what she did, she was so absorbed in the
music.
“It was not the luxury of good living which
tempted me away,” he played on, “nor the love of
other women, nor honor, but the rich variety of
life—its beauty, its bitterness and richness, which I
long to feel around me. But now I have had enough
of it—now I am tired and satisfied. I will leave my
home no more! Forgive me, and have sympathy
with me!”
Then she drew aside the curtain and opened
the window, and he could see her beautiful, kind
face.
She was good and wise. Her face brought a blessing
like the sun’s on all she looked upon. She managed
and guided everything. Wherever she was,
things grew and flourished; she carried happiness
about with her.
He swung himself up to the window-sill, and was
as happy as a young lover. Afterwards he carried
her down in his arms to the garden and under the
apple trees, and showed her how lovely it all was,
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