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Updated: June 16, 2025
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.
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.
His brain was whirling with energy, with illimitable, unconquerable strength! Pelle had before this gone soaring on high and had come safely to earth again. And this time also he came to ground, with a long sigh of relief, as though he had cast off a heavy burden. Hanne's arm lay in his; he pressed it slightly. But she did notice him; she too now was far away.
Like a strange, disconnected snatch of melody, the sound floated about below, trickling up along the wooden walls, and breaking out into the daylight with a note of ecstasy: "Hanne's with child! The Fairy Princess is going to be confined!" Marie went down the stairs like a flash.
It was Hanne's look; behind it was the same wondering over life, but here was added to it a terrible knowledge. Suddenly her face changed; she discovered that she had been outwitted, and glared at him. "Is it true that you and mother were once sweethearts?" she suddenly asked mischievously. Pelle's face flushed. The question had taken him by surprise.
Marie came back with dragging steps and with an expression of horror and astonishment. Down in the court the grimy-nosed little brats were screeching, as they wheeled hand in hand round the sewer-grating it was splendid for dancing round "Bro-bro-brille-brid Hanne's doin' to have a tid!" They couldn't speak plainly yet.
On the stairs of the "Ark" the children lay about cleaning knives and forks with sand sprinkled on the steps. Pelle sat over his work and listened in secret. His appearance usually had a quieting effect on these crazy outbursts of the "Ark," but he did not want to mix himself up with this affair. And he had never even dreamed that Hanne's mother could be like this!
sang Hanne, and the child sang with her she could sing already! Hanne's clear, quiet eyes rested on the child, and her expression was as joyful as though fortune had really come to her. She was like a young widow who has lived her share of life, and in the "Ark" every one addressed her as Widow Hanne.
"I shall come and see my little sweetheart just as often as I can," said Morten, stroking her hair. The red blood suffused her neck in a sudden wave, and was imperceptibly absorbed in the paleness of her skin, like a dying ember. Hanne's blood came and went in the same way for the merest trifle. Johanna had inherited her mother's bashfulness and unspeakable charm, and also her capricious temper.
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.
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