with his eyes.
Now and then he would ask in a low voice what the time was, and from
this Maren knew that he was nearing his end.

On the morning of the day he died he was altogether changed again.
It was as if he had come home to take a last farewell of everybody
and everything; he was weak but quite in his senses. There was so
much he wanted to touch upon once again. His talk jumped from one
thing to another and he seemed quite happy. For the first time for
many months he could sit on the edge of the bed drinking his morning
coffee, chatting to Maren whenever she came near. He was exactly
like a big child, and Maren could not but put his old head to hers
and caress it. "You've worn well, Soeren," said she, stroking his
hair--"your hair's as soft as when we were young."

Soeren fell back, and lay with her hand in his, gazing silently at
her with worship in his faded eyes. "Maren, would you let down your
hair for me?" he whispered bashfully at last. The words came with
some difficulty.

"Nay, but what nonsense!" said Maren, hiding her face against his
chest; "we're old now, you know, dear."

"Let down your hair for me!" whispered he, persisting, and tried
with shaking fingers to loosen it himself. Maren remembered an
evening long ago, an evening behind a drawn-up boat on the beach,
and with sobs she loosened her gray hair and let it fall down over
Soeren's head, so that it hid their faces. "It's long and thick," he
whispered softly, "enough to hide us both." The words came as an
echo from their bygone youth.

"Nay, nay," said Maren, crying, "it's gray and thin and rough. But
how fond you were of it once."

With closed eyes Soeren lay holding Maren's hand. There was much to
do in the kitchen, and she tried again and again to draw her hand
away, but he opened his eyes each time, so she sat down, letting
the things look after themselves, and there she was with the tears
running down her furrowed face, while her thoughts ran on. She and
Soeren had lived happily together; they had had their quarrels, but
if anything serious happened, they always faced it together; neither
of them had lived and worked for themselves only. It was so strange
that they were now to be separated, Maren could not understand it.
Why could they not be taken together? Where Soeren went, Maren felt
she too should be. Perhaps in the place where he was going he needed
no one to mend his clothes and to see that he kept his feet dry, but
at least t