"What about Lise, that was sent to prison?" asks Inger. "For never a thing. She was as innocent as a flower," answers Oline. "And she's in Bergen now; lives in a town and wears a hat--but what about you?" "What about Nils--what did they say of him?" "Oh, I'll not lower myself.... But there's one of yours now lying buried out there in the woods--what did you do to it, eh?" "Now ...! One-two-three--out you go!" shrieks Inger again, and makes a rush at Oline. But Oline does not move, does not even rise to her feet. Her stolid indifference paralyses Inger, who draws back, muttering: "Wait till I get that knife." "Don't trouble," says Oline. "I'm going. But as for you, turning your own kin out of doors one-two-three.... Nay, I'll say no more." "Get out of this, that's all you need to do!" But Oline is not gone yet. The two of them fall to again with words and abuse, a long bout of it again, and when the clock strikes half of the hour, Oline laughs scornfully, making Inger wilder than ever. At last both calm down a little, and Oline makes ready to go. "I've a long road before me," says she, "and it's late enough to be starting. It wouldn't ha' been amiss to have had a bite with me on the way...." Inger makes no answer. She has come to her senses again now, and pours out water in a basin for Oline to wash. "There--if you want to tidy yourself," she says. Oline too thinks it as well to make herself as decent as may be, but cannot see where the blood is, and washes the wrong places. Inger looks on for a while, and then points with her finger. "There--wash there too, over your eye. No, not that, the other one; can't you see where I'm pointing?" "How can I see which one you're pointing at," answers Oline. "And there's more there, by your mouth. Are you afraid of water?--it won't bite you!" In the end, Inger washes the patient herself, and throws her a towel. "What I was going to say," says Oline, wiping herself, and quite peaceable now. "About Isak and the children--how will they get over this?" "Does he know?" asks Inger. "Know? He came and saw it." "What did he say?" "What could he say? He was speechless, same as me." Silence. "It's all your fault," wails Inger, beginning to cry. "My fault? I wish I may never have more to answer for!" "I'll ask Os-Anders, anyhow, be sure of that." "Ay, do." They talk it all over quietly, and Oline seems less revengeful now. An able politician, is Oline, and quick to find expedients; she speaks now as if in sympathy--what a terrible thing it will be for Isak and the children when it is found out! "Yes," says Inger, crying again. "I've thought and thought of that night and day." Oline thinks she might be able to help, and be a saviour to them in distress. She could come and stay on the place to look after things, while Inger is in prison. Inger stops crying; stops suddenly as if to listen and take thought. "No, you don't care for the children."