But he wandered unconsciously, till he slipped and fell
down, and as he fell something broke in his soul, and immediately he
went to sleep.
CHAPTER XXXI.
EXEUNT
When they brought the body home, the next morning, Gudrun was shut up
in her room. From her window she saw men coming along with a burden,
over the snow. She sat still and let the minutes go by.
There came a tap at her door. She opened. There stood a woman, saying
softly, oh, far too reverently:
'They have found him, madam!'
'Il est mort?'
'Yes--hours ago.'
Gudrun did not know what to say. What should she say? What should she
feel? What should she do? What did they expect of her? She was coldly
at a loss.
'Thank you,' she said, and she shut the door of her room. The woman
went away mortified. Not a word, not a tear--ha! Gudrun was cold, a
cold woman.
Gudrun sat on in her room, her face pale and impassive. What was she to
do? She could not weep and make a scene. She could not alter herself.
She sat motionless, hiding from people.
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