She looked hard at him to see whether he meant this too, and then turned her face to the wall. He could see from the curve of her body that she was struggling to keep back her tears, and he tried to turn her round to him; but she stiffened herself.
“I won’t live with grandmother!” she whispered emphatically, “I won’t!”
“No, I’m not! I can’t bear her! She told the woman next door that I was only in the way! It was that confounded child’s fault that she couldn’t get into the Home, she said; I heard her myself! And yet I went about and begged all the food for her. But then I left her!” She jerked the sentences out in a voice that was quite hoarse, and crumpled the sheet up in her hands.
“But do tell me where she is!” said Pelle earnestly. “I promise you you shan’t go to her if you don’t want to.”
The child kept a stubborn silence. She did not believe in promises.
“Well, then, I must go to the police to find her, but I don’t want to do that.”
“No, because you’ve been in prison!” she exclaimed, with a short laugh.
A pained expression passed over Pelle’s face. “Do you think that’s so funny?” he said, winking his eyes fast. “I’m sure grandmother didn’t laugh at it.”
Johanna turned half round. “No, she cried!” she said. “There was no one to give us food then, and so she cried.”
It began to dawn upon him who she was. “What became of you two that day on the common? We were going to have dinner together,” he said.
“When you were taken up? Oh, we couldn’t find you, so we just went home.” Her face was now quite uncovered, and she lay looking at him with her large gray eyes. It was Hanne’s look; behind it was the same wondering over life, but here was added to it a terrible knowledge. Suddenly her face changed; she discovered that she had been outwitted, and glared at him.
“Is it true that you and mother were once sweethearts?” she suddenly asked mischievously.
Pelle’s face flushed. The question had taken him by surprise. “I’ll tell you everything about your mother if you’ll tell me what you know,” he said, looking straight at her.
“What is it you want to know?” she asked in a cross-questioning tone. “Are you going to write about me in the papers?”
“My dear child, we must find your grandmother! She may be starving.”