Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VII
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
“Holy Family.” She did not look at it from a painter’s point
of view; she only looked at the young peasant woman who, with
her garment still drawn aside from her full bosom, sat looking
at her child sleeping on her lap, and holding his foot
caressingly in her hand. It was an ugly little peasant boy, but in
splendid condition; he was sound asleep and such a darling all
the same. Joseph was looking at him across the mother’s
shoulder, but it was not an old Joseph, and Mary was no
immaterial, heavenly bride; they were a strong, middle-aged
working man and his young wife, and the child was the joy
and pride of the two.
In the evening she wrote to Gert Gram a long, sad and tender
letter bidding him farewell for ever.
On the following day she took a through ticket to Florence;
after a sleepless night in the train she found herself sitting at
the window at daybreak. Wild torrents spurted down the
forest-clad mountain-sides. It grew lighter and lighter, and
the towns became more and more Italian in character:
rust-brown or golden-yellow tiles, loggias to the houses, green
shutters against reddish stone walls, church fronts in baroque, stone
bridges across the rivers, vineyards outside the towns, and grey
castle ruins on the hilltops. At the stations all the signs were
written in German and Italian.
She stood in the customs office looking at the first- and
second-class passengers startled out of their sleep, and she felt
quite happy without being able to account for it. She was
back again in Italy. The customs officer smiled at her because
she was so fair, and she smiled back; evidently he took her for
the maid of one or other of the lady passengers.
The misty grey mountains ridges on either side had a bluish
shade in the crevices, the ground looked rusty red, and the sun
flamed white and hot.
But in Florence it was bitterly cold in the early days of
November. Tired and frozen, she stayed in the city a
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
