Rebecca.
[Looks at her.] Come now, Madam Helseth, tell me plainly; what do you think is the reason I am going away?
Madam Helseth.
Well, Heaven forgive us, I suppose it can't be helped, Miss. Ah, well, well, well! But I certainly don't think the Pastor's behaving handsome-like. Mortensgård had some excuse; for her husband was alive, so that they two couldn't marry, however much they wanted to. But as for the Pastor—h'm!
Rebecca.
[With a faint smile.] Could you have believed such a thing of Pastor Rosmer and me?
Madam Helseth.
No, never in this world. At least, I mean—not until to-day.
Rebecca.
But to-day, then?
Madam Helseth.
Well,—after all the horrible things that they tell me the papers are saying about the Pastor
Rebecca.
Aha!
Madam Helseth.
For the man that can go over to Mortensgård's religion—good Lord, I can believe anything of him.
Rebecca.
Oh yes, I suppose so. But what about me? What have you to say about me?
