kitchen. Someone had just done the dishes. Plates and glasses were piled on a tea
towel, some of them still glistening with drops of soapy water. There was a tin bowl
on the floor with some leftover scraps of food in it. Whoever lived here had a pet, a
dog or a cat.
Sophie went back to the living room. Another door led to a tiny bedroom. On
the floor next to the bed there were a couple of blankets in a thick bundle. Sophie dis-
covered some golden hairs on the blankets. Here was the evidence! Now Sophie knew
that the occupants of the cabin were Alberto Knox and Hermes.
Back in the living room, Sophie stood in front of the mirror. The glass was
matte and scratched, and her reflection correspondingly blurred. Sophie began to
make faces at herself like she did at home in the bathroom. Her reflection did exactly
the same, which was only to be expected.
But all of a sudden something scary happened. Just once—in the space of a split
second—Sophie saw quite clearly that the girl in the mirror winked with both eyes.
Sophie started back in fright. If she herself had winked—how could she have seen the
other girl wink? And not only that, it seemed as though the other girl had winked at
Sophie as if to say: I can see you, Sophie. I am in here, on the other side.
Sophie felt her heart beating, and at the same time she heard a dog barking in
the distance. Hermes! She had to get out of here at once. Then she noticed a green
wallet on the chest of drawers under the mirror. It contained a hundred-crown note, a
fifty, and a school I.D. card. It showed a picture of a girl with fair hair. Under the
picture was the girl’s name: Hilde Moller Knag ...
Sophie shivered. Again she heard the dog bark. She had to get out, at once!
As she hurried past the table she noticed a white envelope between all the books
and the pile of paper. It had one word written on it: SOPHIE.
Before she had time to realize what she was doing, she grabbed the envelope
and stuffed it into the brown envelope with the Plato pages. Then she rushed out of
the door and slammed it behind her.
The barking was getting closer. But worst of all was that the boat was gone.
After a second or two she saw it, adrift halfway across the lake. One of the oars was
floating beside it. All because she hadn’t been able to pull it completely up on land.
She heard the dog barking quite nearby now and saw movements between the trees on
the other side of the lake.
Sophie didn’t hesitate any longer. With the big envelope in her hand, she
plunged into the bushes behind the cabin. Soon she was having to wade through
marshy ground, sinking in several times to well above her ankles. But she had to keep
going. She had to get home.
Presently she stumbled onto a path. Was it the path she had taken earlier? She
stopped to wring out her dress. And then she began to cry.
How could she have been so stupid? The worst of all was the boat. She couldn’t
forget the sight of the row-boat with the one oar drifting helplessly on the lake. It was
all so embarrassing, so shameful. . .
The philosophy teacher had probably reached the lake by now. He would need
the boat to get home. Sophie felt almost like a criminal. But she hadn’t done it on
purpose.
The envelope! That was probably even worse. Why had she taken it? Because
her name was on it, of course, so in a way it was hers. But even so, she felt like a
thief. And what’s more, she had provided the evidence that it was she who had been
there.
Sophie drew the note out of the envelope. It said: