And the hope of regular work for the winter made this man a contented
soul. He could manage well enough. No, Grindhusen had nothing much to
trouble about.
But then there was myself. And I felt but little worth or use to myself
now, Heaven help me!
* * * * *
That Sunday I wandered restlessly about. I was waiting for the Captain; he
was to be back today. To make sure of things as far as I could, I went for
a long walk up along the stream that fed our reservoir. I wanted to have
another look at the two little waters up the hillside--"the sources of the
Nile."
Coming down on the way back, I met Lars Falkenberg; he was going home. The
full moon was just coming up, red and huge, and turned things light all
round. A touch of snow and frost there was, too; it was easy breathing.
Lars was in a friendly mood: he had been drinking _Brandevin_
somewhere, and talked a great deal. But I was not altogether pleased at
meeting him.
I had stood there long up on the wooded hillside, listening to the
soughing of earth and sky, and there was nothing else to hear.
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