He stopped playing; he could not bear it. What was there in these tunes--what was there? The darkness did not vanish for them, and the awful thing was, that it seemed to him that when he did not advance against the darkness with the violin and drive it before him, it came gliding towards him to overwhelm him. He had been standing playing, with his eyes half closed; now he opened them and looked into the world of reality. He saw Ingrid, who had been standing listening to him the whole time. He asked her, not expecting an answer, but simply to keep back the darkness for a moment: 'When did I last play this tune?' But Ingrid stood trembling. She had made up her mind, whatever happened, now he should hear the truth. Afraid she was, but at the same time full of courage, and quite decided as to what she meant to do. He should not again escape her, not be allowed to slip away from her. But in spite of her courage she did not dare to tell him straight out that these were the tunes he had played whilst he was out of his mind; she evaded the question. 'That was what you used to play at Munkhyttan last winter,' she said. Hede felt as if he were surrounded by nothing but mysteries. Why did this young girl say '_du_' to him? She was not a peasant girl.[A] Her hair was dressed like other young ladies', on the top of the head and in small curls. Her dress was home-woven, but she wore a lace collar. She had small hands and a refined face. This face, with the large, dreamy eyes, could not belong to a peasant girl. Hede's memory could not tell him anything about her. Why did she, then, say '_du_' to him? How did she know that he had played these tunes at home? [A] The peasants in the Dalar district used formerly to address everybody by the pronoun _du_ (thou), even when speaking to the King; this custom is now, however, not so general.--I.B. 'What is your name?' he said. 'Who are you?' 'I am Ingrid, whom you saw at Upsala many years ago, and whom you comforted because she could not learn to dance on the tight-rope.' This went back to the time he could partly remember. Now he did remember her. 'How tall and pretty you have grown, Ingrid!' he said. 'And how fine you have become! What a beautiful brooch you have!' He had been looking at her brooch for some time. He thought he knew it; it was like a brooch of enamel and pearls his mother used to wear. The young girl answered at once. 'Your mother gave it to me. You must have seen it before.' Gunnar Hede put down the violin and went up to Ingrid. He asked her almost violently: 'How is it possible--how can you wear her brooch? How is it that I don't know anything about your knowing my mother?' Ingrid was frightened. She grew almost gray with terror. She knew already what the next question would be. 'I know nothing, Ingrid. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why you are here. Why don't I know all this?' 'Oh, don't ask me!'