- Project Runeberg -  Marie Grubbe, a lady of the seventeenth century /
134

(1917) [MARC] Author: J. P. Jacobsen Translator: Hanna Astrup Larsen With: Hanna Astrup Larsen
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—or she flits by white as a naked lily!—but it’s empty
dreams, vapor and moonshine only, and frothy air-bubbles.”

They walked on again. At the wicket they stopped, and
Daniel supported his arms on it while his gaze followed
the hedges.

“In there,” he said.

Fair and calm the park spread out under the sunlight that
bathed air and leaves. The crystals in the gravel walk threw
back the light in quivering rays. Hanging cobwebs gleamed
through the air, and the dry sheaths of the beech-buds
fluttered slowly to the ground, while high against the blue sky,
the white doves of the castle circled with sungold on swift
wings. A merry dance-tune sounded faintly from a lute in
the distance.

“What a fool!” murmured Daniel. “Should you think,
Magnille, that one who owned the most precious pearl of
all the Indies would hold it as naught and run after bits of
painted glass? Marie Grubbe and—Karen Fiol! Is he in
his right mind? And now they think he’s hunting, because
forsooth he lets the gamekeeper shoot for him, and comes
back with godwits and woodcocks by the brace and bagful,
and all the while he’s fooling and brawling down at Lynge
with a town-woman, a strumpet. Faugh, faugh! Lake of
brimstone, such filthy business! And he’s so jealous of that
spring ewe-lambkin, he’s afraid to trust her out of his sight
for a day, while—”

The leaves rustled, and Marie Grubbe stood before him
on the other side of the wicket. After she turned into the
side-path, she had gone down to the place where the elks and
Esrom camels were kept, and thence back to a little arbor
near the gate. There she had overheard what Daniel said
to Magnille, and now—

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