he shop without her having heard him, and on
finding no one in attendance, had stepped behind the counter and
opened the door to the next room.

Brita quietly came down from the ladder. The man did not speak, but
withdrew into the shop, Brita slowly following him. She had never
seen the man before. She noticed that he had black curly hair,
throat whiskers, keen eyes, and big, sinewy hands. He was well
dressed, but his bearing was that of a labourer. After seating
himself on a rickety chair near the door, he began to stare hard at
Brita.

By that time Brita was again standing behind the counter. She did
not ask him what he wanted; she only wished he would go away. The
man just stared and stared, never once taking his eyes off her.
Brita felt that she was being held by his gaze, and could not move.
Presently she grew impatient, and said, in her mind: "What's the
use of your sitting there watching me? Can't you understand that
I'm going to do what I want to do, anyhow, as soon as I'm left
alone? If this were only something that could be helped," Brita
argued mentally, "I wouldn't mind your hindering me, but it can't
be remedied now."

All the while the man sat gazing intently at her.

"Let me say to you that we Ingmars are not fitted to be
shopkeepers," Brita continued in her thoughts. "You don't know
how happy we were, Gunner and I, till he took up with this
business. Folks certainly warned me against marrying him; they
didn't like him, on account of his black hair, his piercing eyes,
and his sharp tongue. But we two were fond of each other, you see,
and there was never a cross word between us till Gunner took over
the shop. But since then all has not been well. I want him to
conduct the business in my way. I can't abide his selling wine and
beer to drunkards, and it seems to me that he ought to encourage
people in buying only such things as are useful and necessary; but
Gunner thinks this a ridiculous notion. Neither of us will give in
to the other, so we are forever wrangling, and now he doesn't care
for me any more."

She gave the man a savage look, amazed at his not yielding to her
mute entreaties.

"Surely you must understand that I cannot go on living under the
shame of knowing that he lets the bailiff serve executions upon
poor people and take from them their only cow or a couple of sheep!
Can't you see that this thing will never come right? Why don't you
go, and let me put an end to it all!"

Brita, un