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There was no need to give Povl advice, he was too small. And good enough as he was. Dear, fat, little fellow! It was strange to think that she was going to leave him; several times during the day Ditte would hug him. "If only Lars Jensen's widow'll be good to the children and understand how to manage them!" she said to her father. "You see, she's never had children of her own.
Herr Jensen's unqualified praise had let her see how good Hardy had been, and how considerate for others, and she had accused him of being a coward and only caring for himself.
"They play with Giants!" he gasped. I did not know how to say "baseball nines" in French, but at least he was assured that whatever it was, it was one of the best near New York. Then Captain Jensen's little black boy ran up to tell me the steamer was waiting, and began in Bangalese to beg something of the Father.
In the church she had cried; whether it was the joy of feeling grown-up, or because it was the custom to cry, would be difficult to say. But she enjoyed the following week, when Lars Jensen's widow came and did her work, while she made calls and received congratulations.
He swung the chair around to face them as they entered, saying, "You're early, Cap Huh?" He stood and saluted, his exclamation attracting the attention of the rest of the Bridge crew. They also started to stand. "As you were," Medart said, returning Jensen's salute. The Bridge returned to near-normal, though with more than the usual amount of non-duty conversation.
You can get what you want at the store." It was as if he were keeping Lars Peter back for some purpose of his own. At last the spring came, heralded by furious storms and accidents round about the coast. One morning Lars Jensen's boat came in, having lost its master; a wave had swept him overboard. "You'd better go to the inn-keeper at once," said his two partners to Lars Peter.
The trying the horses was described, and Frøken Mathilde Jensen's explanation of why Hardy had bought Rosendal was given in full, with Fru Jensen's statement as to Kapellan Holm; so that when John Hardy came from his room, he saw that something had passed which had disturbed both the Pastor and his daughter. He at once judged correctly what had occurred.
The day, however, was so hot and bright that, after catching eight trout with much difficulty and steady fishing, Hardy decided to call at the Jensen's Herregaard, and give them the fish he had caught, and fish in the evening, when the sun was less powerful. The heat, as it sometimes is in Denmark, was excessive.
"That may be, little mother," replied Frøken Mathilde; "but Englishmen are very dull, and you had none to talk to." As they rode back to the Jensens' Herregaard, the two girls wanted to race the horses back, to Herr Jensen's and his wife's great alarm.
The place was a confused medley of the flotsam and jetsam of dwelling houses, and appeared to him much more like a pawnbroker's than the business place of an art dealer. From its dusty shadows a stooped figure emerged, gray-haired and spectacled, which waited for Stefan to speak with an air of patient humbleness. "This isn't Mr. Jensen's, is it?" Stefan asked, feeling he had mistaken the number.
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