Tidemand and the Attorney walked ahead.
"It is a good thing that we have these peddlers to fall back on," said
Milde to Irgens. "They are useful after all."
Irgens replied with a shrug of the shoulders which might mean anything.
"And they never consider that they are being imposed upon," continued
Milde. "On the contrary, they think they are highly favoured; it flatters
them. Treat them familiarly, drink their health, that is sufficient. Ha,
ha, ha! Isn't it true?"
The Attorney had stopped; he was waiting.
"While we remember it, we have got to make definite arrangements about
that farewell celebration for Ojen," he said.
Of course, they had almost forgotten about that. Certainly, Ojen was going
away; something had to be done.
The situation was this: Ojen had written two novels which had been
translated into German; now his nerves were bothering him; he could not be
allowed to kill himself with work--something had to be done to procure him
a highly needed rest. He had applied for a government subsidy and had
every expectation of receiving it; Paulsberg himself had recommended him,
even if a little tepidly. The comrades had therefore united in an effort
to get him to Torahus, to a little mountain resort where the air was
splendid for neurasthenics.
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