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herSoren."You have to work hard," said Holberg one day, when she wasdipping clothes in the strong soapy water, and was obliged herselfto split the logs for the fire."That's my affair," she replied."Have you been obliged to toil in this way from your childhood?""You can read that from my hands," she replied, and held out herhands, that were small indeed,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], but hard and strong, with bitten nails."You are learned,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and can read."At Christmas-time it began to snow heavily. The cold came on,the wind blue sharp, as if there were vitriol in it to wash thepeople's faces. Mother Soren did not let that disturb her; she threwher cloak around her, and drew her hood over her head. Early in theafternoon- it was already dark in the house- she laid wood and turf onthe hearth, and then she sat down to darn her stockings, for there wasno one to do it for her. Towards evening she spoke more words to the student than it was customary with her to use; she spoke of herhusband."He killed a sailor of Dragor by mischance, and for that he has towork for three years in irons. He's only a common sailor, andtherefore the law must take its course.""The law is there for people of high rank, too," said Holberg."Do you think so?" said Mother Soren; then she looked into thefire for a while; but after a time she began to speak again. "Have youheard of Kai Lykke, who caused a church to be pulled down, and when the clergyman,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Master Martin, thundered from the pulpit about it,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], he had him put in irons, and sat in jud
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