"I don't. If my name will be Mariet, I shall never kill that man.
He disturbs my life. Make me a present of his life, Mariet. He
kissed you."

"How can I present you that which is not mine? His life belongs to
God and to himself."

"That is not true. He kissed you; do I not see the burns upon your
lips? Let me kill him, and you will feel as joyful and care-free as
a seagull. Say 'yes,' Mariet."

"No; you shouldn't do it, Gart. It will be painful to you."

Haggart looks at her and speaks with deep irony.

"Is that it? Well, then, it is not true that you give me anything.
You don't know how to give, woman."

"I am your wife."

"No! A man has no wife when another man, and not his wife, grinds
his knife. My knife is dull, Mariet!"

Mariet looks at him with horror and sorrow.

"What did you say, Haggart? Wake up; it is a terrible dream,
Haggart! It is I--look at me. Open your eyes wider, wider, until
you see me well. Do you see me, Gart?"