Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [114]
“It’s beautiful!” Martha whispered.
“Hm.... What is beautiful?” he said.
“Up there, can’t you see? What are you looking at?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful.”
And not to arouse her suspicion that he was only looking at one spot, a single point of the whole scene, he began asking her who each of the performers was, though he barely listened to her answers. They didn’t move until the red light was on the verge of going out and the curtain came down.
And now the five tableaux followed one another at a few minutes’ interval. At twelve o’clock Martha and Nagel were still standing in the doorway, watching the last tableau. When it was finally over and the music started up afresh, they returned to their table and talked. Kind as she was, she became more and more compliant and no longer spoke of leaving.
A couple of young ladies came around with notebooks in their hands selling raffle tickets—for dolls, rocking chairs, embroideries, a tea service, and a mantel clock. There was commotion everywhere, people were letting themselves go and talked loudly; the multitude of voices in the hall and the adjacent rooms produced a roar reminiscent of a stock exchange. The bazaar would go on until two in the morning.
Miss Andresen again settled at Nagel’s table. Oh, she was so tired, so tired! Yes, thanks a lot, she would gladly take a glass, half a glass! Shouldn’t she fetch Dagny, too?
And she fetched Dagny. Miniman also came along.
At this point something happens. A table tips over nearby, cups and glasses fall on the floor, and Dagny gives a small cry, nervously clutching Martha’s arm. Afterward she laughed at herself and apologized, her face flushed with emotion. She was extremely agitated and laughed fitfully; her eyes glittered. She had put on her outdoor things and was ready to go home; she was only waiting for the teacher, who was to be her escort as usual.
But the teacher, who was still sitting with Mr. Reinert and hadn’t left his chair for over an hour, was getting rather intoxicated.
“I’m sure Mr. Nagel will walk you home, Dagny,” Miss Andresen said.
Dagny burst out laughing. Miss Andresen looked at her in surprise.
“No,” Dagny replied, “I don’t dare walk with Mr. Nagel anymore. He’s so full of whims. Between you and me, he even asked me for a rendezvous once. It’s the truth! ‘Under a tree,’ he said, ‘a big aspen, it stands in such and such a place’! No, Mr. Nagel is too unpredictable for me! Just now he solemnly pressed me for a pair of shirts which my fiance is supposed to have promised Grøgaard at one time. And Grøgaard himself has no idea what it’s all about! Isn’t that so, Grøgaard? Ha-ha-ha, it’s all very odd!”
With that she quickly got up, still laughing, and went over to the teacher, to whom she said a few words. Evidently she was trying to make him come along.
Miniman had become very uneasy. He attempted to say something, to explain himself, but got confused and gave up. He looked from one to the other with anxious eyes. Even Martha was surprised and afraid; Nagel spoke to her, whispering a few soothing words, and proceeded to fill their glasses. Miss Andresen quickly broached the subject of the bazaar: what a big crowd despite the rainy weather! Oh, it was going to bring in a lot of money, there weren’t terribly many expenses....
“Who was that attractive woman who played the harp?” Nagel asked, “the one with the Byronic mouth and a silver arrow in her hair?”
She was a stranger, in town on a visit. Was she that attractive?
Yes, he thought she was attractive. And he asked several questions about her, though everybody could see that his mind was elsewhere. What was he up to? Why had that angry frown suddenly appeared on his forehead? Slowly he turned his glass.
Then Dagny returned and tarried once more. As she stands behind Miss Andresen’s chair buttoning her gloves, she again opens her mouth, saying in her clear, lovely voice, “What did you really mean by asking me for that rendezvous, Mr. Nagel? What was your purpose? Tell me, will you.”
“Oh, but Dagny!” Miss Andresen whispers,