Pan by Knut Hamsun
page 53 of 174 (30%)
page 53 of 174 (30%)
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"And I have been waiting too. I think of you, and I have picked up the
pieces of the glass you upset once, and kept them--do you remember? Father went away last night. I could not come, there was so much to do with the packing, and reminding him of things. I knew you were waiting here in the woods, and I cried, and went on packing." But it is two evenings, I thought to myself. What was she doing the first evening? And why is there less joy in her eyes now than before? An hour passed. The bird up in the hills was silent, the woods lay dead. No, no, nothing wrong; all as before; she gave me her hand to say good-night, and looked at me with love in her eyes. "To-morrow?" I said. "No, not to-morrow," she answered. I did not ask her why. "To-morrow is our party," she said with a laugh. "I was only going to surprise you, but you looked so miserable, I had to tell you at once. I was going to send you an invitation all on paper." And my heart was lightened unspeakably. She went off, nodding farewell. "One thing more," said I, standing where I was. "How long is it since you gathered up the pieces of that glass and put them away?" |
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