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The Emperor of Portugalia by Selma Lagerlöf
page 176 of 240 (73%)
had only to put out his hand and take it. That very day, shut in as
he was, he had the feeling that there was a message from her on the
way. This was why he stood peering out through the little clear
corner of the window. He knew, also, that unless it came very soon
he could not go on living.

It was so dark now that he could hardly see as far as the gate, and
his hopes for that day were at an end. He had no objection to
retiring at once, he said presently. Katrina dished out the
porridge, the evening meal was hurridly eaten, and by a quarter
after six they were abed.

They dropped off to sleep, too; but their slumbers were of short
duration. The hands of the big Dalecarlian clock had barely got
round to six-thirty when Jan sprang out of bed; he quickly
freshened the fire, which was almost burned out, then proceeded to
dress himself.

Jan tried to be as quiet as possible, but for all that Katrina was
awakened; raising herself in bed she asked if it was already
morning.

No, indeed it wasn't, but the little girl had called to Jan in a
dream, and commanded him to go up to the forest.

Now it was Katrina's turn to sigh! It must be the madness come
back, thought she. She had been expecting it every day for some
little time, for Jan had been so depressed and restless of late.

She made no attempt to persuade him to stay at home, but got up,
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