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“You are married yourself now,” she answered.

“What do you say?”

He looked up. She could see that he had not caught her words and she was glad.

“There must be a struggle, no doubt,” she said.

“Of course there must. There is. In the old days, they were not allowed to come together and now they are not allowed to stay together.”

She said nothing, but let her hand glide over the jar.

“All these faithless wives have lowered love. I could imagine a woman of refinement stifling her love, because she would not give it scope.”

“Because she was afraid.”

“Because she was refined.”

They sat silent for a time and looked at the live embers in the white ashes.

“Do you think there are many who do that?”

He looked up.

“Do you think there are many faithless wives?”

“I don’t know. Why shouldn’t there be?”

He leant his head on his hands. Fru Adelheid played with the jar.

“But I can’t understand that people care to go to the theatre.”

“Where would you have them go?”

He pushed back his chair so that he could see her. She remained sitting as she sat and thought of nothing.