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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Oh-h-h, das-a fine music," he cried, clapping his hands as Nils finished. "Now 'Marble Halls, Marble Halls'! Clara, you sing him." Clara smiled and leaned back in her chair, beginning softly: "I dreamt that I dwelt in ma-a-arble halls, With vassals and serfs at my knee," and Joe hummed like a big bumblebee. "There's one more you always played," Clara said quietly, "I remember that best."
At one of the latter, Clara, while she was dusting, heard a low whistle. She did not turn at once, but listened intently as she drew her cloth slowly along the round of a chair. Yes, there it was: I dreamt that I dwelt in ma-a-arble halls. She turned and saw Nils Ericson laughing in the sunlight, his hat in his hand, just outside the window.
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