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 She turned purple in the face: "Why? How could I know that you were sitting there spying on me?"

"My dear Jenny, I don't mean to say that there was any harm in it, not on your part at least."

Jenny said nothing, but went up the stairs again. In the studio she placed her bag on the floor, and without taking off her things stood looking at Helge while he hung up his coat and put his umbrella in the corner.

"Father told me this morning that you had been to the office and that mother had been below in the street."

"Yes. It is a peculiar manner you people have—of spying, I mean. I must say, I find it hard to get accustomed to it."

Helge turned very red.

"Forgive me, Jenny—I had to speak to you, and the porter said he was sure you were in. You know very well that I don't suspect you."

"Really, I hardly know anything," she said, overcome with it all. "I cannot bear it any longer. All this suspicion and secrecy and discord. Good heavens, Helge!—can't you protect me from all this?"

"My poor Jenny." He rose and went to the window, where he remained standing with his back to her. "I have suffered more than you know. It is all so hopeless. Can you not see for yourself that mother's jealousy is not without foundation?"

Jenny began to shiver. He turned round and saw it.

"I don't believe father is aware of it himself. If he were, he would not give in like that to his desire to be with you. But he told me himself that we ought to go away from here, both of us. I am not so sure that your going away now is not his idea too."

"No; I decided myself to go to Holmestrand, but he spoke