"Nothing. Nothing at all. I only wanted to see if you remembered it. And I
see that you remembered it perfectly."
"Yes," said Ojen, "one does not altogether forget the teachings of
childhood days."
Coldevin stood there and looked after him. _He_ was only waiting for
the processions to start. His coat was beginning to be rather shiny; it
was carefully brushed, but shabby; in the left lapel was fastened securely
a little silk bow in the Norwegian colours.
He shivered, for the air was still chilly; he walked rapidly in order to
get down to the harbour whence sounded the energetic rattle of anchor
chains. He nodded and glanced at the waving flags, counted them, and
followed their graceful billowing against the blue sky. Here and there a
few pale theatre bills were posted on pillars; he went from one to another
and read great and famous names--masterpieces from earlier periods. He
happened to think of Irgens's lyric drama, but he looked for it in vain.
And he turned his face toward the sea; the rattle of chains reached his
ears refreshingly.
The ships were dressed in bunting; the entire harbour scintillated with
these bright colours against the blue.
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