The engine gave a hoarse blast; the train started.
Coldevin opened the window slowly and emptied his hand. And the tiny bits
of red and blue whirled away behind the train, fluttered and sank to the
gravel, to be ground in the dust beneath every man's foot.
IV
It was several days later before Aagot went home. Irgens had not persisted
in vain. He had succeeded, and now he reaped the reward of all his labour.
Aagot was with him continually. She was as much in love with him as she
could be. She clung to his neck.
The days passed by.
Finally a telegram arrived from Ole, and Aagot woke from her trance. The
wire had been sent to Torahus. It reached her after much delay. Ole was in
London.
Well, what was to be done? Ole was in London, but he was not here yet. She
did not remember clearly how he looked. Dark, with blue eyes; tall, with a
stray wisp of hair which always fell across his forehead. Whenever she
thought of him he seemed to belong to an age long past. How long, long it
was since he went away!
The telegram stirred to life again her dormant feelings for the absent
one. She trembled with the old sense of possession.
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