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And he said more: "You wouldn't like to walk up to the mine with me?" said he. And a little after something went wrong with Leopoldine's eyes; everything turned red and strange about her, and the floor was slipping away from under, and Chief Clerk Andresen was talking from somewhere ever so far off. Saying: "Couldn't you spare the time?" "No," says she.

It took place upstairs in the great new room. Five-and-twenty guests sat down round the newly married pair sisters and brothers, cousin Gaos the pilot, Guermeur, Keraez, Yvon Duff, all of the old Marie's crew, who were now the Leopoldine's; four very pretty bridesmaids, with their hair-plaits wound round their ears, like the empresses' in ancient Byzantium, and their modern white caps, shaped like sea-shells; and four best men, all broad-shouldered Icelanders, with large proud eyes.

She took out a bundle of little collars Leopoldine's, they were. And gave Isak a black neckerchief for himself, shiny as silk. "Is that for me?" said he. "Yes, it's for you." He took it carefully in his hands, and stroked it. "Do you think it's nice?" "Nice why I could go round the world in such." But Isak's fingers were rough; they stuck in the curious silky stuff.

And Heaven knows how she managed to get out of the kitchen again. Her mother looked at her and asked what was the matter. "Nothing," said Leopoldine. Nothing, no, of course. But now, look you, 'twas Leopoldine's turn to be affected, to begin the same eternal round. She was well fitted for the same, overgrown and pretty and newly confirmed; an excellent sacrifice she would make.