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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Oh, if I'd only thought!" she sobbed, "if I'd only known what the dear Froeken meant to do when she said good-bye to me last night, I could have prevented her going I could I would have told her all I know and she would have stayed to see you! Oh, Sir Philip, if you had only been here, that wicked, wicked Lady Winsleigh couldn't have driven her away!"
She saw him, answered his call, and drove still faster, soon she came up beside him, and without answering his amazed questions, she cried breathlessly "Jump in jump in! We must go on as quickly as possible to Bosekop! Quick quick! Oh my poor Froeken! The old villain! Wait till I get at him!" "But, my leet-le child!" expostulated Pierre, climbing up into the queer vehicle "What is all this?
"Are you tired, Froeken Thelma?" she asked. "You are so pale!" "I have a slight headache," Thelma answered. "It is nothing, it will soon pass. I wish you to post that letter at once, Britta." "Very well, Froeken." Britta still hesitated. "Will you be out all the evening?" was her next query. "Yes." "Then perhaps you will not mind if I go and see Louise, and take supper with her?
"Have you only just come in, Froeken?" she ventured to inquire. "No, I came home some time ago," returned Thelma gently. "But I was talking to Lady Winsleigh in the drawing-room, and as I am going out again this evening I shall not require to change my dress. I want you to post this letter for me, Britta." And she held out the one addressed to her father, Olaf Gueldmar.
"If you touch me!" cried Thelma, "I will kill you! I will! God will help me!" Again Mr. Dyceworthy laughed sneeringly. "God will help you!" he exclaimed as though in wonder. "As if God ever helped a Roman! Froeken Thelma, be sensible.
The Reverend Charles wiped his hot face, and his smile grew wider. "What matter?" he inquired blandly. "We shall, no doubt, entertain ourselves excellently without him! It is with you alone, Froeken, that I am desirous to hold converse."
"Except," he said, with a suave sneer, "except when 'any person' happens to be a rich Englishman with a handsome face and easy manners! . . . then you are not slow to make friends, Froeken, on the contrary, you are remarkably quick!" The cold haughty stare with which the girl favored him might have frozen a less conceited man to a pillar of ice.
"Oh, pride, pride!" murmured the unabashed Dyceworthy, recovering from the momentary abasement into which he had been thrown by her look and manner. "How it overcometh our natures and mastereth our spirits! My dear, my dearest Froeken, I fear you do not understand me!
Old hag with the yellow teeth. Vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes. Maud Gonne, beautiful woman, La Patrie, M. Millevoye, Felix Faure, know how he died? Licentious men. The froeken, bonne a tout faire, who rubs male nakedness in the bath at Upsala. Moi faire, she said, Tous les messieurs. Not this Monsieur, I said. Most licentious custom. Bath a most private thing.
"Nay, if it is indeed so urgent, noble Froeken," he replied, "do not trouble, for there is a means of making the journey. But for you, and in such bitter weather, it seems a cruelty to speak of it. A steam cargo-boat leaves here for Hammerfest and the North Cape to-morrow it will pass the Altenfjord.
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