She first glanced towards the sofa; it was empty. Then she looked
towards the easy chair; but as this stood partially in the shadow of the
large bed curtains, she was able only to perceive a pair of feet, and it
was these very feet that had the impertinence to shuffle in her room,
without asking her permission.
"Fabian," she exclaimed, "are you not ashamed of yourself? What are you
doing?"
But Fabian did not reply.
"Ah, you foolish man, I see now that you have been made drunk, you could
not withstand their entreaties, poor man; please prepare for bed."
And yet no answer.
"He is as drunk as possible. Go to your own room, Fabian; be careful, do
not take a light with you, and do not fall down stairs and hurt
yourself. Are you going to move to-night? Shall I ring the bell for the
servants, that they may carry you to bed?"
Not receiving a reply, Mrs. Ulrica tore aside the bed curtains, and
extending her hand, placed it upon a strange head of hair.
"Heavens!" she exclaimed, "that is not my husband!"
"What of that, it is the husband of another," replied a calm voice.
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