A couple of rings flash on her fingers. She breathes
deeply and says to Irgens, across the table:
"How hot it is here, Irgens!"
Irgens gets up and goes over to open a window, but a voice is raised in
protest; it is Mrs. Paulsberg's. "For Heaven's sake, no open windows. Come
away from the sofa; it is cooler further back!"
And Mrs. Hanka gets up. Her movements are undulating. When she stands up
she is like a young girl, with bold shoulders. She does not glance into
the large, cracked mirror as she passes; she exhales no odours of
perfumes; she takes, accidentally, her husband's arm and walks up and down
with him while the conversation and the refreshments keep the other guests
at the table.
Tidemand is talking, with somewhat forced liveliness, about a cargo of
grain, a certain Furst in Riga, a raise in customs duties somewhere.
Suddenly he says, bending toward her:
"Yes; I am very happy to-day. But, pardon me, you are hardly interested in
these things--Did you see Ida before you left? Wasn't she sweet in her
white dress? We'll get her a carriage when spring comes!"
"Yes; in the country! I am beginning to long for it already!" Mrs.
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