WOMAN. (_Rousing_) Food, give it to me, child, I am dying for food!

(HOLGER _gives her the porridge and sits down on the floor beside
her._)

HOLGER. (_Watching her as she devours the porridge_) _Ah, poor
soul!_--Why, thou wert starving!--Na, just see!--Mother says that's what
makes my little brother so round and rosy, because he eats so much
porridge,--you like it, don't you?

WOMAN. It is life itself! (_Her voice has grown young and strong. Sinks
back again as she has eaten it all_) Bless thee, Child!

(HOLGER _sets the empty dish aside on the hearth and turns to feel
her hands._)

HOLGER. Oh, thou art warm!

WOMAN. Aye, warm! (_In a voice increasingly rich and sweet. At this
moment there comes the distant sound of organ music._ HOLGER
_straightens suddenly in a listening attitude_) Listen,--is that music?

HOLGER. From the Cathedral!--Aye, it must be,--last summer we could hear
it plain, and now with so many thousands there! (_Leaves the woman and
stands in the center of the room listening attentively_) It's
beginning!--(_Pause_) Everyone is there!

WOMAN. Why are they there.