"Why, was he blind, then?" I broke in, thinking to please Edwarda. And I
shrugged my shoulders as well.
The young lady understood my coarseness at once, and answered:
"He must have been blind indeed, to run after any one so old and ugly as
I am."
But I gained no thanks from Edwarda for that: she drew her friend away;
they whispered together and shook their heads. After that, I was left
altogether to myself.
Another hour passed. The seabirds began to wake out on the reefs; their
cries sounded in through the open windows. A spasm of joy went through
me at this first calling of the birds, and I longed to be out there on
the islands myself...
The Doctor, once more in good humor, drew the attention of all present.
The ladies were never tired of his society. Is that thing there my
rival? I thought, noting his lame leg and miserable figure. He had taken
to a new and amusing oath: he said _Dod og Pinsel_, [Footnote: A
slight variation of the usual Dod og Pine (death and torture).] and
every time he used that comical expression I laughed aloud. In my misery
I wished to give the fellow every advantage I could, since he was my
rival. I let it be "Doctor" here and "Doctor" there, and called out
myself: "Listen to the Doctor!" and laughed aloud at the things he said.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85