ing, as she left the room: "Do you really
mean to walk----?"

Mary gave a nod which implied: "Enough has been said! That is my
affair!"

Margrete closed the door.

* * * * *

The lamps were lit in the streets when Mary left the house. It was with
difficulty she could keep her feet in the gusts that blew from the
south-west, strengthened by compression between the houses. She had on a
waterproof cloak and hood, firmly secured, and long waterproof boots.
She walked as fast as she could. One thought alone remained to her after
the conversation with Margrete Roey. But it united with the wind and the
rain in driving her, lashing her on--the thought of Margrete's horrified
eyes and pale face when she said: "There is something the matter with
you; speak to me!" Good God! Margrete understood. They would all look at
her like this when they heard. Thus terribly had she disappointed and
wounded those who had believed in her. She felt as if she had them all
behind her, as if it were from them she was fleeing--the flock of crows!
She flew on, and had reached the outskirts of the town before she knew
where she was. Here, beyond the last lamp, it was pitch dark; she had to
wait a little before she could see her way. But what a pace she set off
at then! The gale was coming half from behind, half from the side.

The judgment passed upon her was driving her out into the wide
world--no, much farther than that! It seemed to her that at the moment
when she first understood her position a packet had been given her,
which she had not opened until now. She had felt all the time what was
in it, but it was only yesterday she had opened it. It contained a large
black veil, large enough for her to conceal herself and her shame
in--the veil of death. But even this was given upon a certain
condition--a condition she had known about since she was a child. For as
a child she had heard the story of a grand-aunt of her own, who, in the
hope of concealing that she had become pregnant during her husband's
absence, walked barefooted upon an ice-cold floor, secretly, night after
night, in order that she might die a natural death. It would never be
known that she had brought it about herself, so there would be no
occasion to ask why she had done it.

But some one had heard her pacing thus night after night, and the
question was asked after all.

Things should be managed better this time! The weakness to which Mary
had