with her industry for the carelessness of the woman who had died. She really had not much time for talking. But what did Lukas, being deeply in love, care for all her work, her clever management of the household and the change she had worked? He wanted his kiss; the rest she might as well have left undone.
Who will blame him when he lost patience with her in the end, as he could do nothing with her either by love or by threats? He at last became really bitter against her and unable to master himself any longer; he angrily stamped his foot one day.
‘Listen, Vendulka, let’s make an end one way or another, I am sick of this to-do,’ he cried, hoisting the storm-signals. ‘If you do not immediately embrace me as you used to do under the aspen tree, you will see me do something that you won’t like. I shall go to the inn this minute, and not come back till the sun rises on yonder mountain.’
The blood mounted to her cheeks; it was easy to see that his threat frightened her, but she would never have dreamt of giving in.
‘If you haven’t learnt sense at your time of life, go and welcome!’ she answered abruptly, and ran off.
