Where the husband saw the homefield and the byre and the farmhouse and the diary and the family with Margret among them, Skuli saw only Margaret, or, at times, he didn’t see Margaret at all, but instead her hair and her eyes and her hands and her breasts, or the swell of her hips and the sway of her gait.
After being with him, Margret, too, saw these things -her wrist, her skirt, swinging about her, and she felt a puzzlement and an exhilaration that, as it faded, she yearned to feel again.
One day she went into the mountain wearing her new silk cloak, although the sun was warm on the scree of the mountain sides and she lingered there in some of the clefts where Skuli had a habit of meeting her. Now she saw him at the bottom of the hill, climbing the path from Undir Hofdi church. Now he looked up and perhaps caught sight of her, for he seemed to smile and quicken his pace.
When he spoke her name, she reached forward and pushed aside some branches of willow brush and his face was so close that it startled her and she snorted.
Skuli turned towards Margret, and at first his face bore no expression, and then she saw his jaw drop and his eyes widen in perfect admiration and surprise, such as she had never seen on his or any face in her life, and at the same time that she knew this as a sin and vanity she also fell into the terror of never seeing such a look on his face again