"Ah, he possesses that which you have not!" she answered, seeking to wound him. "Nevertheless, it is cowardly of you to say such a thing." "Is it, indeed? Do you not think that I know it is his fault that I have lost you, lost the peace of my home, lost, too, all joy in my calling, and am now threatened with the loss of my child?" His voice trembled, he began in anger, but it turned to deep grief, and it was the same with her. She felt inclined to sob and cry. But neither of them would give way to such weakness. She stood looking out of the window; he walked up and down the room. There was a long, long pause. Again she was overcome with anger. His step, too, sounded defiant; still there was silence. What he had just said was shameful, certainly. "Well," she said, without looking round, "now you know the conditions. You can preach about such tales as that of Kristen Larssen's haunting the place, and you have not even sought to inquire into the matter! Just as with your tales of Paradise; you don't believe in them yourself, and yet you can repeat them! Can I have any respect for such conduct? I must say, my brother is much more honest than that! If you come again to my boy with those tales without telling him that they are only fairy tales," and she turned around to him, "then, Ole, there will be an end to our living together. Before God, this is the truth. It will never be any use your trying to take him from me by such means." She moved toward him: "I will never submit to it, Ole!" She left him. On that very Sunday, at the self-same hour, Kallem returned home to dine; his dinner hour was somewhat later than his brother-in-law's. He could see Ragni through the kitchen door, with a long apron on which reached up to her chin; she was cutting up vegetables on the kitchen table. He took his things off in the passage and went in and joined her; latterly he had an ever-increasing fear which he had to conceal. Was it the white apron that threw a pale shadow over her, or the steam from Sigrid's cooking? She really was looking fearfully ill. And surely she had been crying! It sent a pang through his heart. She did not look up from her work, but said: "We are to have a guest for dinner." "We are?" "Yes, Otto Meek, Karl's father; he was here this morning, and is now coming to dinner." "How is Karl getting on?" "Not well. Oh, here comes Meek!" His big head under a fur cap could be seen appearing over the prosperous-looking top-coat; he was at the other side of the hedge; now he turned in, and Kallem went to meet him. During the time that Meek practised he had turned his attention particularly to diseases of the chest, which were but too prevalent in these parts of the country, and he took the most lively interest in Kallem's writings and in his work at the hospital; Kallem was glad when he came. As he helped him off with his coat he said that Ragni had told him Karl was not well. "No, he is not." "What is the matter with him?"