The things we do!

Next morning the fever is gone; I am still a little weak, but make ready
to go out to the wood all the same.
"You won't need to put on your woodcutting things again," says Falkenberg.
"I told you that before."
True! Nevertheless, I put on those things, seeing the others are wet.
Falkenberg is a little awkward with me now, because of breaking our plan;
by way of excuse, he says he thought I was taking work at the vicarage.
"So you're not coming up to the hills, then?" I asked.
"H'm! No, I don't think so--no. And you know yourself, I'm sick of
tramping around. I'll not get a better chance than this."
I make as if it was no great matter to me, and take up a sudden interest
in Petter; worst of all for him, poor fellow, to be turned out and nowhere
to go.
"Nowhere to go?" echoes Falkenberg. "When he's lain here the three weeks
he's allowed to stay sick by law, he'll go back home again. His father's a
farmer."
Then Falkenberg declares it's like losing part of himself to have me go.


Pages:
115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139