The things we do!

... I tied up the
horses and gave them their fodder. It looked like rain, so I put the
oilskins over them, patted them, and went up to the cottage with the
basket.
There is only an old woman at home. "Varsaagod!" she says, and "Come in."
And she goes on tending her coffee-pot. Fruen unpacks the basket, and
says, without looking at me:
"I suppose I am to help you again to-day?"
"Thank you, if you will."
We ate in silence, I sitting on a little bench by the door, with my plate
on the seat beside me, Fruen at the table, looking out of the window all
the time, and hardly eating anything at all. Now and again she exchanges a
word with the old woman, or glances at my plate to see if it is empty. The
little place is cramped enough, with but two steps from the window to
where I sit; so we are all sitting together, after all.
When the coffee is ready, I have no room for my cup on the end of the
bench, but sit holding it in my hand. Then Fruen turns full-face towards
me calmly, and says with down-cast eyes:
"There is room here.


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