And perhaps I was a little touched myself at the thought.
"Yes," I said, "I remember. It was a glorious drive. But Fruen must have
found it cold towards the last."
"It was you that must have felt cold," she answered. "You lent me your own
rug from the box. Oh, you poor thing!"
I was even more moved at this, and foolish ideas came into my head. Ah,
then she had not forgotten me! The few years that had passed since then
had not made so much difference in me after all!
"Fruen must be mistaken about the rug, I think," said I. "But I remember
we stopped at a cottage to eat, and the woman made coffee, and you gave me
things yourself."
As I spoke, I leaned up against the fence, with my arms round a post.
Perhaps this somehow offended her, looking as if I expected her to stand
gossiping there with me. And then I had said, "We stopped at a cottage,"
as if we had been equals. It was a bad mistake on my part, of course, but
I had got a little out of hand after all these vagabond months.
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