She took it up, dashed it to the ground and stamped upon it.

Next she fell upon her knees, praising and blessing God, and then, worn out, crept away to rest.
The morning came, the still and beautiful autumn morning, but now all her exultation had left her, and Lysbeth was depressed and heavy hearted.

She rose and assisted the one servant who remained in the house to prepare their breakfast, taking no heed of the sidelong glances that the woman cast at her.

Afterwards she went to the market to spend some of her last florins in necessaries.

Here and in the streets she became aware that she was the object of remark, for people nudged each other and stared at her.