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Updated: June 20, 2025
And Ole ran up the stairs and disappeared; Irgens looked after him. "Listen I want to thank you for your book!" said Aagot quickly in a low voice. "You will never know how I have enjoyed it." "Really? Truly? It is good to hear you say that," he replied, full of gratitude.
If Paulsberg wasn't going to be in it, then.... Irgens could not control himself any longer; he sneered openly and almost hissed: "Mr. Subsidist! You are divine!" That subsidy was never out of his thoughts. "And as for you," answered Milde scathingly, glaring at him with angry eyes, "it is getting so that it is impossible to be near you." Irgens feigned surprise. "What is that?
She ought to have thought of giving Gregersen a little hint herself and spared her Poet this humiliation. Yes, she certainly would speak to Gregersen at once. And Irgens thanked her; his bitterness vanished slowly. They sat silently on the sofa some time; then she said: "Listen! An awful thing happened with that red tie of yours you remember the one I took from you once? He saw it!"
She would overwhelm Irgens with this joyful news, he who had so often sighed for that divorce during their most intimate hours Irgens was at home at last. She told him the great news at once. She recounted how it had happened, repeated Tidemand's words, and praised his superiority. She gazed into Irgens's eyes; her own were sparkling.
On the other hand, you are thoroughly up to date as far as the aesthetic occurrences are concerned; you have heard the latest prose poem. We have so many young writers; we have Ojen, and we have Irgens, and we have Paulsberg, and we have many more. That is the young Norway. I see them on the streets occasionally. They stalk past me as poets should stalk past ordinary people.
To-night he was going to sleep at last! Outside Sara he stopped abruptly. He drew back in the shadows slowly, four, six steps; his eyes were staring fixedly toward the entrance to the cafe. A cab was standing outside. He had heard Aagot's voice; she came out with Irgens. Irgens appeared first. Aagot had been delayed by something on the stairs. "Hurry up, now!" called Irgens. "Just a moment, Mr.
And now she began to think; the tears were dripping from her long lashes, and she whispered, dully, despairingly: "God forgive me! What have I done?" Irgens wanted to speak, to say something that would soften her despair. It had happened because it had to happen. He was so unspeakably fond of her; she surely knew he was in earnest.... And he really looked as if he were greatly in earnest.
"That nasty fellow, Gregersen; he was kicking me on the leg all the time! I am sure I am black and blue! Imagine, Irgens, the cabby knows you!" "You are drunk," said Irgens brutally, and helped her into the carriage. Her hat was awry, she tried to get into her coat and she babbled incoherently. "No, I am not drunk; I am only a little cheerful Won't you see if my leg is bruised?
Yes, it was quite true; he had orders to sell the yacht; as a matter of fact, he had already advanced a thousand crowns on it. Here were the papers; Irgens had left them with him, the poet Irgens. He hoped there were no objections? None at all. The lawyer grew more and more polite and cordial; he probably knew everything about the whole matter, but he did not betray his knowledge.
Then all of a sudden he amazed everybody by appearing on the promenade, rehabilitated from top to toe in an elegant fall suit, with tan gloves and money in his pockets, distinguished and elegant as the old and only Irgens. People looked at him admiringly. Devil of a chap he was unique! What kind of a diamond mine had he discovered? Oh, there was a head on these shoulders, a superior talent!
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