"'Surely that was something crowing again,' he said, listening.
"But when I heard what he said, I cut off his words as swiftly as I
could, and answered:
"'No, how can you imagine it? There was nothing crowing then.'
"He kissed me.
"Then it was evening again, and Dundas was gone. Something golden
thrilling through me. I stood before the glass, and two eyes all alight
with love looked out at me; I felt something moving in me at my own
glance, and always that something thrilling and thrilling round my
heart. Dear God! I had never seen myself with those eyes before, and I
kissed my own lips, all love and desire, in the glass...
"And now I have told you. Another time I will tell you of Svend
Herlufsen. I loved him too; he lived a league away, on the island you
can see out there, and I rowed out to him myself on calm summer
evenings, because I loved him. And I will tell you of Stamer. He was a
priest, and I loved him. I love all..."
Through my helf-sleep I heard a cock crowing down at Sirilund.
"Iselin, hear! A cock is crowing for us too!" I cried joyfully, and
reached out my arms. I woke. Asop was already moving. "Gone!" I said in
burning sorrow, and looked round. There was no one--no one there. It was
morning now; the cock was still crowing down at Sirilund.
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