As I see it, it was only a last rite." "Oh, you are a pessimist." "Indeed, no, you are mistaken. I am not that." Beer and sandwiches were served, afterward coffee. Coldevin glanced at those present; he met Aagot's eyes looking at him very gently, and this agitated him so that he suddenly spoke out loudly what was on his mind: "Did this decision to-day surprise you so very much, then?"

To-night he was going to sleep at last! Outside Sara he stopped abruptly. He drew back in the shadows slowly, four, six steps; his eyes were staring fixedly toward the entrance to the cafe. A cab was standing outside. He had heard Aagot's voice; she came out with Irgens. Irgens appeared first. Aagot had been delayed by something on the stairs. "Hurry up, now!" called Irgens. "Just a moment, Mr.

"As for me, I think it is a remarkable poem, irrespective of your opinion." "Surely, old fellow; but please don't talk about poetry," interrupted Milde. And as it dawned on him that he had been a little too rude to the poor peddler in Aagot's presence, he added hurriedly: "I mean Isn't it too much of a bore to talk about poetry and poetry all the time?

And suddenly the anger blazed up in the poor fellow. He walked more rapidly and his forehead flamed. She had gone entirely too far. That was his reward for the love he had lavished on her! He had knelt before a hussy. He had let that miserable lover of hers cheat him openly for years! He could prove it by the ledger look here now Aagot's fine friend had been hard up for ten, now for fifty crowns!

She had not noticed that. It was written in Aagot's large, childish hand, and was touching in its simplicity; she had made several corrections. Yes, he had understood it clearly; and, besides, there was the ring. After all, what did he amount to?

It was late at night. He had walked with Tidemand a long time and told him everything. He was going to write a letter to Aagot's parents, respectful and dignified, without reproaches. He felt he ought to do that. When he had finished this letter he read Aagot's once more. He wanted to tear it to pieces and burn it up, but he paused and placed it in front of him on the desk.

But so far was he from suspecting the true condition of affairs that on the very last afternoon in London he bought her a little present, a carriage for her fiord pony on Torahus. And on his desk he found Aagot's letter with her ring enclosed. Ole Henriksen read the letter almost without grasping its meaning. His hands commenced to tremble, and his eyes were staring.

Aagot laughed incessantly and was hugely amused. How he did make things interesting and give life and colour to the most commonplace! They finally got to the Exhibition, looked at what there was to see, and talked about the pictures as they went along. Aagot's questions were fully answered; Irgens knew everything and even told her anecdotes about the exhibiting painters.

It might give rise to too much gossip; the town was so small and he was, unfortunately, so well known. But they would write, write every day; otherwise she would never be able to endure the separation.... Tidemand was the only one who knew of Aagot's departure and who followed her to the train.

He took the ring out of its wrapping and looked at it for a long time. He was sorry that he had lost his temper and said words which he now regretted. He took them back, every one. Good-bye, then, Aagot.... And he placed Aagot's last letter with the others. Ole began to work hard again; he spent practically all his time in his office.