"
He said, slowly and emphatically:
"No, it is not too late."
She looked at him steadily and rose to her feet; he, too, got up; they
walked on. Immersed in their own thoughts, without conscious realisation
of what they were doing, walking slowly, they made the circuit of the park
and returned to their sheltered nook. They sat down on the same bench.
"We are walking in a circle," he said. "That is the way I am circling
around you."
"Listen," she said, and her eyes were moist, "this is the last time I
shall be with you, probably. Won't you be nice? I am going home, you know,
very soon now."
But just as he was preparing to answer her out of the fullness of his
heart somebody had to pass their seat. It was a lady. In one hand she
carried a twig with which she struck her skirt smartly for every step she
took. She approached them slowly; they saw that she was young. Irgens knew
her; he got up from his seat, took off his hat, and bowed deeply.
And the lady passed blushingly by.
Aagot asked:
"Who was that?"
"Only my landlady's daughter," he said. "You told me to be nice. Yes,
dearest--"
But Aagot wanted further information concerning this lady.
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