“I beg pardon for coming up so late. I'll be going to the post first
thing tomorrow; I thought if perhaps Fruen had any letters to go?”
“Letters? No,” she answered, shaking her head.
There was an absent look in her eyes, but she did not look in the least
as if she had been drinking.
“No, I've no letters,” she said, and moved to go.
“Beg pardon, then,” I said.
“Was it the Captain told you to go to the post?” she asked.
“No, I was just going for myself.”
She turned and went back to her room. Before she was well through the
door I heard her say to the others:
“A nice pretext, indeed.”
Ragnhild and I went down again. I had seen her.
Oh, but I was humbled now indeed! And it did not ease my mind at all
when Ragnhild incautiously let out a further piece of news. It seemed
she had been romancing before; it was not true about the Captain's
having asked her to keep a look out. I grew more and more convinced in
my own mind: Ragnhild was playing the spy on her own account, for sheer
love of the game.
I left her, and, went up to my room. What had my clumsy intrusion gained
for me, after all? A pretext, she had said; clearly she had seen through
it all. Disgusted with myself, I vowed that for the future I would leave
things and people to themselves.