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 week when he was near death we had a nurse, but I sat up just the same because I wanted to—although I was not really needed."

Jenny kissed Cesca's forehead.

"There is one thing I have not told you, Jenny. You warned me, you remember, to be more careful with men, and said I had no instincts. Gunnar used to scold me, and Miss Linde said once, don't you remember, that if you make a man excited that way he goes to somebody else."

Jenny felt quite cold with fright for what was coming next.

"Well, I asked him something about that on this first morning."

Jenny could not say a word. "I understand that he cannot forget it and perhaps not forgive, but I wish he would find an excuse for me, remember how very stupidly I looked at it all." She hesitated, searching for words. "Our life has been so horrid ever since. He does not really wish to kiss me—if he ever does, it is almost against his will, and he is angry afterwards with himself and with me. I have tried to explain, but it is no good. To be quite honest, I don't know what to make of it all, but I do not mind anything any longer if I could only make him happy. Anything that makes Lennert happy is good and beautiful to me. He thinks that I sacrifice myself, but it is no sacrifice—quite the contrary. Oh, I have cried for nights and days in my room because I saw that he was longing for my love, and I have tried to kiss him, but he pushes me away.

"I am very fond of him, Jenny. Tell me, can't one love a man in that way too?—can I not say that I love Lennart?"

"Yes, Cesca."

"You cannot think how desperate I have been. But I cannot help being as I am. When we are out of an evening with other artists I see that he is in a bad humour; he does not say