Aagot and Coldevin walked together down the street. He said nothing about his going away, and she didn't know of his intention. She was happy to be with Coldevin, this phenomenon who irritated everybody with his impossible harangues. She walked close beside him; her heart was fluttering.

"Forgive me!" she pleaded. "Yes, you must forgive me everything, both that which has happened before and to-day. A while ago I should have been afraid to ask you, but no sooner am I with you than I become bold again. You never reprove me, never. But I haven't done anything wrong to-day—I mean to-day when I was far up-town; you understand what I mean." And she looked at him with an open, straightforward glance.

"Are you going back home soon, Miss Aagot?"

"Yes, I am going back at once—Forgive me, Coldevin, and believe me, believe me—I have done nothing wrong to-day; but I am so sorry, I repent everything—Blue, heatless flames, without much pride—I am not so stupid that I do not know whom you had in mind when you said this."

"But, dearest Aagot," he exclaimed in his perplexity, "it was not meant for you—I didn't mean it at all! And besides, I was mistaken, greatly mistaken; thank God, you are entirely different. But promise me one thing, Aagot; promise that you will be a little careful, do! It is none of my business, of course; but you have fallen in with a crowd—believe me, they are not your kind of people. Mrs. Tidemand has gained bitter experience through them."

She glanced at him inquiringly.

"I thought it best to tell you. Mrs. Tidemand, one of the few sterling personalities in the clique, even she! One from that crowd has destroyed her, too."

"Is that true?" said Aagot. "Well, I don't care in the least for them; alas, no! I don't want to remember any of them." And she seized Coldevin's arm and pressed close to him as if in fear.

This embarrassed him still more. He slowed up a little, and she said with a smile as she let go his arm:

"I suppose I mustn't do that?"

"H'm. What are you going to do when you get back home? By the way, have you heard from your fiancÉ?"

"No, not yet. But I suppose it is too early. Are you afraid of anything happening to him? Dear me, tell me if you are!"

"No; don't worry! He will get back safe enough."

They stopped at her door and said good-bye. She ascended the few steps hesitatingly, without even lifting her dress; suddenly she turned, ran downstairs again, and seized Coldevin's hand.

Without another word she hurried up-stairs and through the door.

He stood still a moment. He heard her steps from inside, then they died down. And he turned and drifted down the street. He saw and heard nothing of what happened around him.

Instinctively he walked toward the basement restaurant where he usually took his meals. He went down and ordered something. Hurriedly he ate everything that was placed before him; apparently he had not eaten for a long while. And when he was through he took out the ten-crown bill and paid his check from that. At the same time he felt in his waistcoat pocket for a little package, a few crowns in silver—the small amount he had put aside for his railway ticket, and which he had not dared to touch.

* * * * *

The following day, around five, Aagot was walking down toward the docks, toward the same place where she had walked the day before. Irgens was already waiting for her.

She hurried toward him and said:

"I came after all, but only to tell you—I won't meet you any more. I haven't time to talk to you now, but I did not want you to come here and wait for me."

"Listen, Miss Aagot," he said boldly, "you can't back out now, you know."

"I am not going home with you any more, never. I have learned something. Why don't you get Mrs. Tidemand to go with you? Why don't you?" Aagot was pale and excited.

"Mrs. Tidemand?" he asked, startled.

"Yes, I know everything. I have asked questions—Yes, I have thought of it all night long. Go to Mrs. Tidemand, why don't you?"

He stepped close to her.

"Mrs. Tidemand has not existed for me since I saw you. I haven't seen her for weeks. I don't even know where she lives."

"Well, it doesn't matter," she said. "I suppose you can look her up. I won't go home with you, but I can walk with you a few moments."

They walked on. Aagot was quiet now.

"I said I have thought of it all night," she continued. "Of course, not all night. All day, I meant. Not all the time, I mean—You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Married ladies! You don't defend yourself very warmly, Irgens."

"What is the use?"

"No, I suppose you love her." And when he was silent she grew violently jealous. "You might at least tell me if you love her!"

"I love you," he answered, "I do not lie; it is you and nobody else I love, Aagot. You can do with me what you like, but it is you." He did not look at her. He gazed down on the pavement and he wrung his hands repeatedly.

She felt that his emotion was genuine and she said gently:

"All right, Irgens, I'll believe you. But I won't go home with you."

Pause.

"What has made you so hostile toward me all of a sudden?" he asked. "Is it this—? He has been your tutor, but I must frankly say that he disgusts me, dirty and unkempt as he is."

"You will be good enough to speak civilly of Coldevin," she said coldly.

"Well, he is going away to-night, so we shall be rid of him," he said.

She stopped.

"Is he going this evening?"

"So I heard. On the night train."

Was he going? He hadn't mentioned that to her. Irgens had to tell her how he knew. She was so taken up with this news about Coldevin that she forgot everything else; perhaps she even felt a sense of relief at the thought that henceforth she would be free from his espionage. When Irgens touched her arm lightly she walked mechanically ahead. They went straight to his rooms. When they stood by the entrance she suddenly recoiled. She said "No!" repeatedly while she looked at him with staring, bewildered eyes. But he pleaded with her. Finally he took her arm and led her firmly inside.

The door slammed behind them….

On the corner Coldevin stood and watched. When the couple disappeared he stepped forward and walked over to the entrance. He stood there awhile. He bent forward stiffly as if he were listening. He was much changed. His face was fearfully drawn and his lips were frozen in a ghastly smile. Then he sat down on the steps, close by the wall, waiting.

An hour passed by. A tower-clock boomed. His train was not due to leave for another hour. Half an hour went by. He heard somebody on the stairs. Irgens came first. Coldevin did not stir; he sat motionless with his back to the door. Then Aagot appeared. Suddenly she cried out loudly. Coldevin arose and walked away. He had not looked at her nor had he said a word; he had simply shown himself—he had been on the spot. He swayed like a man in a stupor. He turned the very first corner, the frozen smile still on his lips.

Coldevin walked straight down to the railway station. He bought his ticket and was ready. The doors were thrown open. He walked out to the train-shed; a porter came after him with his trunk. His trunk? All right; he had almost forgotten it. Put it in there, in this empty compartment! He entered after it had been stowed away; then he collapsed utterly. He sat in the corner; his gaunt, emaciated body shivered convulsively. In a few moments he took from his pocketbook a tiny silken bow in the Norwegian colours and began to tear it to pieces. He sat there quietly and plucked the threads apart. When he had finished he stared at the shreds with a fixed, vacant stare. The engine gave a hoarse blast; the train started. Coldevin opened the window slowly and emptied his hand. And the tiny bits of red and blue whirled away behind the train, fluttered and sank to the gravel, to be ground in the dust beneath every man's foot.