The things we do!

...
In the morning, when I was ready to start, a little girl stood in the
courtyard waiting for me to come out. It was Olga. Was there ever such a
child? She must have been afoot since midnight to get here so early. And
there she stood in her blue skirt and her jacket.
"That you, Olga? Where are you going?"
She had come to see me.
How did she know I was here?
She had asked about me and found out where I was. And please was it true
she was to keep the sewing-machine? But of course it couldn't....
Yes, the machine was hers all right; hadn't I taken her picture in
exchange? Did it work all right?
Yes, it worked all right.
We did not talk much together; I wanted to get her away before the
Lensmand came out and began asking questions.
"Well, run along home now, child; you've a long way to go."
Olga gives me her hand--it is swallowed up completely in mine, and she
lets it lie there as long as I will. Then she thanks me, and shambles
gaily off again. And her toes turning in and out all odd ways.


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