They went about in fear of one another, each keeping silence from a suspicion that the other was ready to recriminate. They had been torn from the home in which they had passed happy years, and the discomfort and poverty of the miserable cottage only helped to remind them of their misfortune and keep them apart.
While Fru Wangen was standing in the kitchen making some soup for the children, she suddenly sank into a chair and stared into the fire with terrified eyes, for her father, as he hung there, said that he did not mind about Wangen. It was only she he troubled about, she who had brought him into the family.
The soup boiled over, and Fru Wangen did not notice it. The floor seemed to be sliding away from under her, and she thought that something black stretched out hands towards her until she turned cold with terror, and began involuntarily to look for something to save her.
It was the bankruptcy that had ruined them all. But supposing that Wangen were really innocent? Then her father might have made his speech to those who were guilty. She also now saw in Wangen's innocence a plank to which she could cling. He was innocent; he must be innocent.
Later in the day Wangen had gone to her father's farm, as she did not feel equal to it; but he turned back, too, when he saw the house. He dared not see the dead man.
When he came home, his wife was sitting alone with her elbows upon the table and her chin resting in her hands.
"Where are the children?" he asked at once, looking round.
"They're sent away," she said in a dull tone, looking at him.
An uncomfortable suspicion suddenly crossed his mind.
"But tell me where they are," he said, opening the door to the other room; but there was no one there.
"I telephoned for your aunt," she said in the same tone as before. "She came at once, and drove away a little while ago." And as he still stood and looked at her a little uncertainly, she added, "I thought it would be better for you, Henry. Is there anything you would like me to help you with?"
It sounded so mysterious. He did not thank her, because he felt it was not to him she spoke, but to herself.
It was uncomfortably empty in the bedroom when they went to bed that night. The children's places were empty.