“Do not be afraid.”
But he saw that she was trembling. Then he thought to give her confidence by taking her hand; but at the first contact with his hand she sprang up as if on fire, and off she darted again, while he was left behind.
She did not run far, her breath gave out; there was a throbbing and burning in her temples; her heart seemed ready to burst; she pressed her hands against it and listened. She heard a step in the grass, a rustling in the foliage; he was coming, and right toward her. Did he see her? No, he did not! Yes, he did, though! No, he was passing by! She was not afraid, that was not what was the matter; but she had been wrought up to a high pitch of excitement, and her strength giving way with the tension, she sank down weary, exhausted.
After a long while, she got up and walked slowly down the slope, paused, and then walked on again as though she had no definite goal. When she again reached the road, he was sitting patiently waiting there, and now he rose. She had not seen him before; it seemed as if she had been walking in a fog; not a word escaped her, nor did she stir; she only put her hands before her eyes and wept. This affected Yngve Vold to such a degree that his usually
