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Updated: June 16, 2025
But he wasn't going to wrangle with women. Hanne's mother came storming out onto her gallery. "That's a shameless lie!" she cried. "Pelle's name ain't going to be dragged into this the other may be who he likes!" Overhead the hearse-driver came staggering out onto his gallery. "The princess there has run a beam into her body," he rumbled, in his good- natured bass. "What a pity I'm not a midwife!
Hanne's child had to live too, and they eat a lot at her age." And so she was back in her troubles again. The nurse came and told Pelle that he must go now, and he rose and bent over the old woman to say farewell, strangely moved at the thought that she had done so much for him, and now scarcely knew him.
He often vowed to himself that he would not allow her to make a fool of him but he always went over to see her again. He must try to conquer her and then take the consequences. One day, when work was over, he strolled across to see her. There was no one on the gallery, so he went into the little kitchen. "Is that you, Pelle?" Hanne's voice sounded from the living-room. "Come in, then!"
They sat out on the gallery under the green foliage, Hanne's face glowing to rival the climbing pelargonium; she kept on swinging her foot, and continually touched Pelle's leg with the tip of her shoe. She was nervously full of life, and kept on asking the time. When her mother went into the kitchen to make coffee, she took Pelle's hand and smilingly stroked it. "Come with me," she said.
It was as though the summer night had found a sanctuary in the heart of this wilderness of stone. Under the lantern sat Madam Johnsen and her daughter sewing; and Hanne's face glowed like a rose in the night, and every now and then she turned it up toward Pelle and smiled, and made an impatient movement of her head.
Suspense ran through his body like an icy shudder. Outside stood Hanne's mother, shivering in the morning cold. "Pelle," she whispered anxiously, "it's so near now would you run and fetch Madam Blom from Market Street? I can't leave Hanne. And I ought to be wishing you happiness, too." The errand was not precisely convenient, nevertheless, he ran oft.
For the first time he doubted himself. "Now you must lie down and go to sleep," he said gently, and stroked her forehead. It was burning hot and throbbed, and alarmed he felt her pulse. Her hand dropped into his, thin and worn, and her pulse was irregular. Alas, Hanne's fever was raging within her! She held his hand tight when he rose to go.
The terrible winter is put to flight, and it is warm as in Hell itself. The blood is seething in their brains; it injects the whites of their eyes, and expresses itself in wanton frolic, in a need to dance till they drop, or to fight. "Hanne is wild to-night she has got her second youth," says Elvira and the other girls maliciously. Hold your tongues. No one shall criticize Hanne's behavior!
"The prefect of police himself has just five hundred kroner lying in his desk. I'll try to get it for you if you like." "No," said Pelle slowly, "I would rather undergo my punishment. But thanks for your kind intentions and give my best wishes to your old mother. And if you ever have anything to spare, then give it to Widow Johnsen. She and the child have gone hungry since Hanne's death."
Day by day the children helped him to trace it; this was an exciting bit of work, for the King was getting impatient! There were other wonderful things to do; for instance, one could lie flat down on the slippery flagstones and play Hanne's game the "Glory" game.
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