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Hamsun, Knut, 1859-1952

"Shallow Soil"

I can tell your steps whenever
you walk down-stairs. Punish me, make me suffer, but do not cast me off!
Simply to be here gives me a thousand joys, and I am altogether different
now--"
She could hardly stop; she continued to speak hysterically; at times her
voice was choked with emotion. She rose from the chair. She smiled while
the tears rained down her face. Her voice trailed off into inarticulate
sounds.
"For Heaven's sake, be calm!" he exclaimed abruptly, and his own tears
were falling as he spoke. His face twitched. He was furious because he
could not control himself better. He stood there and snapped out his
words. He could not find the ones he sought. "You could always make me do
whatever you wanted. I am not very clever when it comes to bandying words,
no, indeed! The clique knows how to talk, but I haven't learned the art--
Forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you. But if you mean that you want me
to take somebody else's place now--If you want me as a successor--Of
course, I do not know, but I ask. You say you want to come back now. But
_how_ do you come back? Oh, I don't want to know; go in God's name!"
"No, you are right.


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