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Hamsun, Knut, 1859-1952

"Pan"

And I was thinking all the time: What can
have happened to Glahn? He never comes now. I knew nothing of it all.
And you had shot yourself, and it was weeks ago, they tell me, and I
knew never a word. How are you now? You are very pale: I should hardly
recognize you. And your foot--will you be lame now? The Doctor says you
will not be lame. Oh, I am so fond of you because you are not going to
be lame! I thank God for that. I hope you will forgive me for coming up
like this without letting you know; I ran nearly all the way..."
She bent over me, she was close to me, I felt her breath on my face; I
reached out my hands to hold her. Then she moved away a little. Her eyes
were still dewy.
"It happened this way," I stammered out. "I was putting the gun away in
the corner, but I held it awkwardly--up and down, like that; then
suddenly I heard the shot. It was an accident."
"An accident," she said thoughtfully, nodding her head. "Let me see--it
is the left foot--but why the left more than the right? Yes, of course,
an accident..."
"Yes, an accident," I broke in. "How should I know why it just happened
to be the left foot? You can see for yourself--that's how I was holding
the gun--it couldn't be the right foot that way. It was a nuisance, of
course.


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