"But here are other people!" she exclaimed suddenly.
Irgens laughed: "What did you expect? This is not a jungle, exactly."
They explored the island thoroughly, saw the changing views, and had
refreshments. Aagot beamed. The walk in the bracing air had flushed her
cheeks, her lips, her ears, even her nose; her eyes were sparkling gaily.
She suddenly remembered that she had almost pouted in disappointment when
she saw other people; what must Irgens have thought?
"I was at first a little surprised to find so many people here," she said.
"The reason was that you told me you had written some of your poems here,
and I did not think you could have done that unless you had been entirely
undisturbed."
How she remembered! He gazed at her exultantly and answered that he had
his own restful nook where nobody ever came. It was on the other side;
should they go over?
They went. It was certainly a restful place, a regular wilderness of rocks
and heather and junipers, enclosed on two sides. Far in the distance could
be seen a little glade. They sat down.
"So this is where you sit and write!" she exclaimed. "It is strange to
think of.
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