desk sat a man Anders did not know, looking at him with poorly concealed curiosity.
Unsure of how to act, Anders stepped about a yard into the room and took up an almost military stance. No matter what was to come, he would take it like a man. Sooner or later they would have ended up in this situation; he just wished he could have chosen the circumstances.
He sought Agnes's eyes, but she stubbornly refused to look up and kept staring at her shoes. His heart ached for her. She must find all this incredibly difficult. But they still had each other, and after the worst of the storm subsided they could begin building their life together.
Anders turned his gaze from Agnes and calmly regarded the man behind the desk. He waited for Agnes's father to speak. It took a very long time before that happened, and the hands of the clock seemed to move unbearably slowly. When August Stjernkvist finally spoke, his voice had a cool, metallic tone.
'I understand that you and my daughter have been meeting in secret.'
'Circumstances have forced us to it, yes,' replied Anders calmly. 'But I have never had anything but honourable intentions with respect to Agnes,' he went on, looking Stjernkvist in the eye. For a second he thought he saw surprise in the director's face. This was apparently not the reply he had anticipated.
'I see, well.' Stjernkvist cleared his throat to gain time and decide how to handle this statement. Then his anger returned.
'And how had you intended to do that? A rich girl and a poor stonecutter. Are you so stupid that you believed that was even possible?'
Anders reeled at the scornful tone in the man's voice. Had he acted stupidly? All his decisiveness started to give way before the contempt bombarding him, and he realized at once how absurd the idea sounded when said aloud. Obviously that could never be possible. He felt his heart slowly breaking into bits and desperately sought out Agnes's glance. Was this going to be the end? Would he never see her again? She still didn't look up.
'Agnes and I love each other,' he said quietly, hearing how he sounded like a condemned man offering his last words of defence.
'I know my daughter considerably better than you do, boy. And I know her considerably better than she thinks I do. Of course, I did spoil her and allowed her greater freedom than she probably should have had, but I also know that she's a girl with ambitions. She never would have sacrificed everything for a future with a labourer.'
The words stung like fire, and Anders wanted to scream that he was wrong. Her father was not describing the Agnes he knew, not at all. She was good and kind, and above all she loved him just as passionately as he loved her. She was certainly prepared to make the sacrifices necessary for them to be able to live together. With sheer force of will he tried to make her look up and tell her father how things really stood, but she remained silent and dismissive. Gradually the ground began to give way beneath him. Not only was he about to lose Agnes, he understood quite well that given these conditions he wouldn't be allowed to keep his job either.
Stjernkvist spoke again, and now Anders thought he could sense pain behind the anger. 'But things have suddenly taken on a new light. Under normal circumstances I would have done everything I could to stop my daughter from ending up with a stonecutter. But the two of you have already seen to that by presenting me with an accomplished fact.'
In bewilderment Anders wondered what he was talking about.
Stjernkvist saw his puzzled expression and continued. 'She's expecting a child, of course. You two must be complete idiots not to have thought of that eventuality.'
Anders gasped for breath. He was inclined to agree with Agnes's father. They had indeed been idiots. He had been just as convinced as Agnes was that the precautions they had taken were fully sufficient. Now everything was changed. His feelings were swirling about, making him even more confused. On the one hand, he couldn't help feeling happy that his beloved Agnes would be bearing his child; on the other hand he was ashamed before her father and understood his rage. He too would have been furious if anyone had done such a thing to his daughter. Anders waited tensely for the director to go on.
Mournfully, August Stjernkvist said, still refusing to look at his daughter, 'Naturally there is only one solution. You will have to get married, and to that end I have called in Judge Flemming today. He will marry you at once, and we will deal with the formalities afterwards.'
Over in her corner Agnes now looked up for the first time. To Anders's astonishment he saw no joy in her eyes, but only desperation. Her tone of voice was entreating when she spoke. 'Father dear, please don't force me into this. There are other ways to solve the problem, and you can't force me to marry him. After all, he's only a simple… worker.'
The words felt like the lash of a whip against Anders's face. He seemed to see her for the first time, as if she had metamorphosed into someone else before his eyes.
'Agnes?' he said, as if begging her to remain the girl he loved, even though he already knew that all his dreams were now crashing down around him.
She ignored him and continued desperately appealing to her father. But August wouldn't condescend to give her even a glance. He looked only at the judge and said, 'Do what you need to do.'
'Please, Father!' Agnes shrieked, throwing herself to her knees in a dramatic plea.
'Silence!' said her father turning his cold eyes on her at last. 'Don't make yourself ridiculous. I don't intend to tolerate any hysterical ploys from you. You've made your bed, and now you have to lie in it!' he shouted. His daughter shut up at once.
With a pained look on her face, Agnes reluctantly got to her feet and let the judge carry out his task. It was an odd wedding, with the bride sullenly standing a few yards from the bridegroom. But the reply to the judge's question was 'yes' from each of them, although with much reluctance from one side and much confusion from the other.
'So, now that's done,' August asserted after the businesslike ceremony was completed. 'Of course I can't have you working here any longer,' he said. Anders merely bowed his head to confirm that this was what he expected. His new father-in-law went on, 'But no matter how badly you have behaved, I can't leave my daughter penniless; I owe her mother that much.'
Agnes looked at him tensely, still with a small hope that she wouldn't have to lose everything.
'I have arranged a position for you at the quarry in Fjallbacka. One of the other cutters can finish the statue. I've also paid the first month's rent for a room with a kitchen in one of the barracks. After that month you'll have to manage on your own.'
Agnes let out a whimper. She put her hand to her throat as if she were about to choke, and Anders felt as though he were aboard a ship that was slowly sinking. If he still harboured any hopes of building a future with Agnes, they were crushed for good when he saw the contempt with which she regarded her new husband.
'Dear, beloved Father, please,' she again entreated. 'You can't do this to me. I would rather take my own life than move into a stinking hovel with that man.'
Anders grimaced at her words. Had it not been for the child he would have turned on his heel and left, but a real man took care of his obligations no matter how difficult the circumstances. That had been imprinted on him since he was a boy. So he remained standing in the room that now felt suffocatingly small and tried to imagine his future with a woman who obviously found him repulsive. She was now his companion for life.
'What's done is done,' said August to his daughter. 'You have the afternoon to gather up whatever possessions you can carry, then the carriage leaves for Fjallbacka. Choose your belongings wisely. You probably won't have much use for your party dresses,' he added spitefully, showing how deeply his daughter had wounded him. His soul would never recover from this.
When the door closed behind them the silence was thundering. Then Agnes
