Irgens put his cheek to one of them,
closed his eyes, and said, "Good night, good night."
"So you are going to the Art Exhibition!" said Ole smilingly. "Aagot has
hardly spoken about anything else all day."
"Couldn't you come, too?" she asked.
But Ole had no time; just now he was very busy. "Be off--don't disturb me
any more; out with you! Have a good time!"
It was the promenade-hour. Irgens proposed that they take the way through
the park; they could then hear a little music at the same time. Did she
like music?
Aagot was in a dark suit and wore a cape with red silk lining. The
snug-fitting garment clung to her body without a wrinkle; around her neck
she simply wore a bit of lace. The cape fluttered at times with scarlet
silken flashes. She was sorry to say that she was not very musical. She
liked to hear music, of course, but she lacked a thorough understanding of
it.
"Exactly like myself," answered Irgens. "That is funny; are you like that,
too? To tell the truth, I understand music unpardonably poorly, but I show
up in the park every day; it would never do to stay away." Much depended
upon that; if one did not show oneself and keep abreast of the procession,
one would soon be lost, submerged, forgotten.
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