Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [117]
They went straight to Martha’s house. Nagel peered about him, but there was no one to be seen. “If you let me come in for a moment, I would be very grateful,” he said.
She hesitated. “It’s so late,” she said.
“You know I’ve promised never to hurt you in any way. I must talk to you.”
She opened the door.
Once inside, she lighted a candle, while he again hung something before the window. He remained silent until she was ready for him, whereupon he said, “So, did you enjoy yourself this evening?”
“Yes, thank you!” she replied.
“Well, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Come and sit a little closer. You mustn’t be afraid of me, will you promise me that? Good, let’s shake hands on it.”
She gave him her hand, and he didn’t relinquish it.
“Now, you don’t believe I’m a liar, do you, that I would lie to you? I want to tell you something. So you don’t believe I would lie to you?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll explain it all to you eventually, don’t worry.... But how firm is your belief in me? I mean, how far are you prepared to go in your belief? Rubbish! What nonsense I’m talking! But, you see, it is a rather difficult matter. Would you believe me, for instance, if I told you I’m very—that I’m really very fond of you? Well, you must’ve noticed that yourself. But what if I went a bit further, I mean ... In short, I simply want to ask you to be my wife. Yes, my wife, there I’ve said it. Not just my sweetheart, but my wife.... God help me, how you take on! No, no, let me keep your hand; I can explain myself far better than that, it’ll all be perfectly clear. Now, consider the possibility that you’re hearing correctly: that I’m simply, and without any beating around the bush, proposing to you, and also that I really mean every word I say—consider this possibility first and then allow me to continue. Good! How old are you? O-o-h, I wasn’t going to ask about that; but I’m twenty-nine myself, well beyond the age of fluttering frivolity. You may be four, five, six years older, that doesn’t mean—”
“I’m twelve years older,” she says.
“Twelve years older!” he exclaims, delighted that she’s paying attention, that she isn’t losing her head completely. “So, you’re twelve years older, that’s splendid, it’s simply grand! You don’t think, do you, that twelve years is an obstacle? Why, you must be mad! But however that may be—even if you were three times twelve years older, what difference would it make, as long as I’m in love with you and mean every word that passes my lips at this moment? I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, well, not that long, but for several days anyway, that’s the truth; for heaven’s sake, believe me, I implore you. I’ve been thinking about it for a number of days and spent sleepless nights because of it. You have such strange eyes, I was drawn by them from the moment I saw you; I could be drawn to the world’s end by a pair of eyes. Once an old man, alas, dragged me around a forest for half a night by his eyes alone. The man was possessed—. Well, that’s another story. But your eyes have affected me. Do you remember the day you were standing here in the middle of the room watching me as I passed by? You didn’t turn your head, you only followed me with your eyes, I’ll never forget it. But once I met you and had a chance to talk to you, I was also moved by your smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody laugh with such heartfelt warmth as you; but that’s something you don’t know about, which is just the wonder and the beauty of it, that you don’t know about it.... Oh, what frightful drivel I’m talking. I can hear it well enough, but I have the feeling that I must talk continuously, otherwise you won’t believe me, and that makes me confused.4 If only you didn’t sit there like that, about to take off—I mean, ready to get up and go—I would do better right away. Please let me hold your hand again, then I’ll be sure to speak more lucidly. There, thank you! ... You see, all