No, they'd no children as yet; didn't
look as if Fruen was like to have any. What was I talking about? They
might have children yet, of course; any amount of them for that. On again.
We plough on to the next stop. I am anxious not to arrive at an awkward
time, and ask the man, therefore, if he thinks there would be visitors or
anything of that sort up at the house today. No, he thought not. They'd
parties and visitors now and again, but.... Ay, and music and playing and
fine goings-on as often as could be, but.... And well they might, for that
matter, seeing they were fine folks, and rich and well-to-do as they were.
He was a torment, was that ploughman. I tried to find out something about
another Falkenberg, who could tune pianos at a pinch. On this the
ploughman's information was more definite. Lars? Ay, he was here. Know
him? Why, of course he knew Lars well enough. He'd finished with service
at Ovrebo, but the Captain had given him a clearing of land to live on; he
married Emma, that was maid at the house, and they'd a couple of children.
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