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Updated: June 16, 2025
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.
She looked irresolutely at Pelle. For a moment Pelle felt an inordinate longing to throw himself upon this man and strike him to the ground, but then he met Hanne's eyes, which wore an expression as though she was longing for some means of shaking him off. "Well, it looks as if one was in the way here!" he thought. "And what does it all matter to me?"
And there a bluish ring of vapor always hovered, revealing the presence of the well, that hidden ventilating shaft for the thronging inmates of the "Ark." One could recognize Madam Frandsen's garret with its chimney-cowl, and farther back, in a deep recess, which ran far into the mass of the building, Pelle could distinguish Hanne's window. Otherwise he could not place many of the little windows.
And up among the timbers of the third story hung Hanne's canary, singing quite preposterously, its beak pointing up toward the spot of fiery light overhead. Across the floor of the courtyard went an endless procession of people, light-shy creatures who emerged from the womb of the "Ark" or disappeared into it.
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.
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