United States or Egypt ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Fruen had given her orders about a letter that was to be fetched from Lars Falkenberg's, and when it arrived, she was to wait till the light went out in Fruen's room, and then bring it up. "Very good," said Ragnhild. "But not till I put out the light, you understand," said Fruen again. And Ragnhild had set herself to wait for the letter.
Disgusted with myself, I vowed that for the future I would leave things and people to themselves. I threw myself down fully dressed on the bed. After a while I heard Fru Falkenberg's voice outside in front of the house; my window was open, and she spoke loudly enough. The engineer was with her, putting in a word now and again.
"And is there anywhere else Frokenen could recommend...?" "Ask the people at Ovrebo; Falkenberg's the name." "What name?" "Falkenberg. Go straight on from here, and you'll come to a post on the right-hand side about a mile and a half along. Turn off there and that'll take you to it."
Well, they were but types. I talked to them because I wanted to find out their point of view. There are many others like them. They look upon the entente with good-natured tolerance. They doubt the real ability of Britain to afford practical aid to France, should she be attacked. This good-natured tolerance is being changed into irritation. Falkenberg's efforts are ceaseless.
"I wonder at nothing in the woman who has been Falkenberg's wife," Julien replied. "He seems to me the most unscrupulous person who ever breathed. Yet in his way he is marvelously attractive." "He is," she admitted. "I fell in love with him against my will. Directly my reason intervened, the madness was over. How old do you think I am, Sir Julien?" Julien was a little startled.
While I was busy with this, we heard Captain Falkenberg's voice; through the bushes we could see him unharnessing the horses and leading them in. The engineer gave a start; he fumbled for his watch, and got it out, but his eyes had grown all big and empty they could see nothing. Suddenly he said: "Oh, I forgot, I must . . ." And he hurried off far down the garden.
In the afternoon I went for a four or five hours' ramble through the woods, passed by Lars Falkenberg's place without going in, and came right out to where the Captain's land joined that of the neighbouring village before I turned back. I was surprised to see the mass of timber that had been cut. When I got back, Nils asked: "Did you hear them singing and carrying on last night?"
Falkenberg's weather-beaten face grew quite handsome with pleasure; I felt proud of him when he answered modestly that he thought himself it was a little better now. Either he had gained by his experience in tuning already, or Fruen was grateful to him for not having spoiled the grand piano. Falkenberg dressed up in my town clothes every evening.
Word Of The Day