Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part one - III
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milky-white neck. The fur cap had slid back from her fair,
fluffy hair.
“I suppose you have the support of your father, though, Mr.
Gram — I mean, he understands you, doesn’t he? Surely he
sees that you can’t get ahead so quickly at that school, when you
have quite different work at heart?”
“I don’t know. He was very pleased that I could go abroad,
of course, but” — after some hesitation — “I have never been
very intimate with my father. And then there is mother. She
was anxious lest I should work too hard, or be short of money
— or risk my future. Father and mother are so different — she
has never quite understood him, and kept more to us children.
She was a great deal to me when I was a boy, but she was
jealous of father even — that he should have greater influence
over me than she had. She was jealous of my work too, when
I locked myself up in a room of an evening to read, and always
anxious about my health and afraid I should give up my post.”
Jenny nodded several times thoughtfully.
“The letter I fetched at the post office was from them.” He
took it out of his pocket and looked at it, but he did not open
it. “It is my birthday today,” he said, trying to smile. “I
am twenty-six.”
“Many happy returns.” Miss Winge shook hands with him.
She looked at him almost in the same way as she looked at
Miss Jahrman when she nestled in her arms.
She had not noticed before what he looked like, though she
was under the impression that he was tall and thin and dark.
He had good, regular features on the whole, a high, somewhat
narrow forehead, light brown eyes with a peculiar amber-like
transparency, and a small, weak mouth with a tired and sad
expression under the moustache.
“I understand you so well,” she said suddenly. “I know
all that. I was a teacher myself until Christmas last year. I
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