However, one's love could not have been so very
firmly rooted if a walk or two had been enough to break it down....
And suddenly the anger blazed up in the poor fellow. He walked more
rapidly and his forehead flamed. She had gone entirely too far. That was
his reward for the love he had lavished on her! He had knelt before a
hussy. He had let that miserable lover of hers cheat him openly for years!
He could prove it by the ledger--look here--now Aagot's fine friend had
been hard up for ten, now for fifty crowns! And he, Ole Henriksen, had
even been afraid that Aagot some day might chance to see the poet's
account in his books. He had finally put away the ledger, entirely out of
regard for the great man's feelings. It was a most suitable partnership;
they were worthy of each other. The poet had something to write about now,
a splendid subject! Ha, he must not grieve too much over her; she could
not stand that; she might even lose sleep over it! Think of that! But who
had said that he would grieve? She was mistaken. He might have knelt
before her, but he hadn't licked her boots; no, he would hardly be
compelled to take to his bed on account of this.
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