I stayed on at the lodging-house, mended my clothes,
and got some new ones made at a shop. One of the maids in the house came
up one evening and offered to do some mending for me, but I was more in
the mood for fooling, and showed her how well I managed the work myself.
"Look at that patch, there, now--and that!" After a while a man came up
the stairs and tried the door. "Open, you within!" he said.
"It's Henrik, one of the lumbermen," said the girl.
"Is he your sweetheart?" I asked.
"No, indeed, I should think not," she answered. "I'd rather go without
than have a fellow like him."
"Open the door, d'you hear!" cried the man outside. But the girl was not
frightened in the least. "Let him stay outside," she said. And we let him
stay outside. But that door of mine bent inwards in a great curve every
now and then, when he pushed his hardest.
At last, when we'd finished making fun about my needlework and her
sweethearts, I had to go out and see the passage was clear before she
would venture downstairs.
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