"
"Yes, yes--only as long as you are here."
She looked forsaken, kept pressing my hand.
"No, Eva. Go--never any more!"
* * * * *
Nights pass and days come--three days already since this last talk. Eva
comes by with a load. How much wood has that child carried home from
the forest this summer alone?
"Set the load down, Eva, and let me see if your eyes are as blue as
ever."
Her eyes were red.
"No--smile again, Eva! I can resist no more; I am your, I am yours..."
Evening. Eva sings, I hear her singing, and a warmth goes through me.
"You are singing this evening, child?"
"Yes, I am happy."
And being smaller than I, she jumps up a little to put her arms round my
neck.
"But, Eva, you have scratched your hands. _Herregud_! oh, if you had not
scratched them so!"
"It doesn't matter."
Her face beams wonderfully.
"Eva, have you spoken to Herr Mack?"
"Yes, once."
"What did he say, and what did you?"
"He is so hard with us now; he makes my husband work day and night down
at the quay, and keeps me at all sorts of jobs as well. He has ordered
me to do man's work now."
"Why does he do that?"
Eva looks down.
"Why does he do that, Eva?"
"Because I love you."
"But how could he know?"
"I told him.
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