two of us.

I feel the same cold shivers down my back that I remember feeling long
ago, when my nurse induced me to go into a churchyard. I thought I saw
all the dead coming out of their graves. That was a foggy evening, too.
How strange it is that such far-off things return so clearly to the
mind.

The trees are quite motionless, as though they were listening for
something. What do they hear? There is not a soul here--only Jeanne and
myself.

Another time I shall forbid Torp to make these excursions. If she must
go to church, she shall go in the morning.

It is very uncanny living here all alone in the forest, without a
watch-dog, or a man near at hand. One is at the mercy of any passerby.

For instance, the other day, some tipsy sailors came and tried the
handle of the front-door.... But then, I was not in the least
frightened; I even inspired Torp with courage.

I have a feeling that Jeanne is sitting upstairs in mortal terror. I sit
here with my pen in my hand like a weapon of defence. If I could only
make up my mind to ring....

There, it is done! My hand is trembling like an aspen leaf, but I must
not let her see that I am frightened. I must behave as though nothing
had happened.