Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Ball at Ekeby
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walls seemed to spin round, and his thoughts grew
giddy.
Ah, who is the lady he has snatched from the
crowd?
She is light and graceful, and he feels streams of
fire flow between them. Oh, Marienne!
While Gösta danced with Marienne, Sintram was
sitting already in his sledge in the courtyard, and
near him stood Melchior Sinclaire.
The great land proprietor was impatient at having
to wait for Marienne. He stamped on the snow
with his big boots, and swung his arms, for it was
bitterly cold.
“Perhaps, after all, you should not have gambled
Marienne away to Gösta,” said Sintram.
“Why not?”
Sintram put his reins in order and lifted his whip
before he answered: “All that kissing did not
belong to the tableau!”
Melchior Sinclaire raised his arm to strike, but
Sintram was gone. He started his horse at racing
speed, not daring to look back, for Melchior
Sinclaire had a heavy hand and but short patience.
The master of Björne went back to the dancing-hall
and saw Marienne and Gösta dancing together.
The last polka was wildly, crazily danced. Some of
the couples were pale, some blooming red, the dust
hung like smoke over the room. The waxen lights
burned low in the candlesticks, and amid all this
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