"Living--living!" she gasped.
"Living!" repeated Gueldmar sternly. "Vile hag! Your purpose was
frustrated! Your crime destroyed her beauty and shortened her days--but
she lived--lived for ten sweet, bitter years, hidden away from all eyes
save mine,--mine that never grew tired of looking in her patient,
heavenly face! Ten years I held her as one holds a jewel--and, when she
died, her death was but falling asleep in these fond arms--"
Lovisa raised herself with a sharp cry, and wrung her hands together--
"Ten years--ten years!" she moaned. "I thought her dead--and she lived
on,--beloved and loving all the while. Oh God, God, why hast thou made a
mockery of Thy servant!" She rocked herself to and fro--then looked up
with an evil smile. "Nay, but she _suffered_! That was best. It is worse
to suffer than to die. Thank God, she _suffered_!"
"Ay, she suffered!" said Gueldmar fiercely, scarce able to restrain
himself from seizing upon the miserable old woman and shaking the
sinking life out of her--"And had I but guessed who caused her
sufferings, by the sword of Odin, I would have--"
Ulrika laid her hand on his suddenly upraised arm.
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