"Of course, I mean you, certainly I do! Haven't you attended college?
Well, aren't you a college man, then?"
The Journalist, too, was a little tipsy.
"It was only a business college," said Ole quietly.
"Of course, you are a peddler, yes. But there is no reason why you should
be ashamed of that. Is there, Tidemand? I say there is no reason whatever!
Does anybody feel called upon to object?"
Tidemand did not answer. The Journalist kept obstinately to the question;
he frowned and thought of nothing else, afraid to forget what he had asked
about. He began to lose his temper; he demanded a reply in a loud voice.
Mrs. Hanka said suddenly:
"Silence, now. Ojen is going to read another poem."
Both Paulsberg and Irgens made secretly a wry face, but they said nothing;
on the contrary, Paulsberg nodded encouragingly. When the noise had
subsided a little Ojen got up, stepped back, and said:
"I know this by heart. It is called 'The Power of Love.'"
We rode in a railway carriage through a strange landscape--strange to
me, strange to her. We were also strangers to each other; we had never
met before. Why is she sitting so quietly? I wondered.
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