Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [33]
“On me?”
“Yes. Several people were whispering, asking one another who you were. And now, too, they are looking this way.”
“Who is the lady with the big black feather in her hat?”
“The one with the white parasol handle? That’s Fredrikke Andresen, the Miss Fredrikke I told you about. And the one standing next to her, looking this way just now, is the daughter of the chief of police; her name is Miss Olsen, Gudrun Olsen. Oh, I know them all. Dagny Kielland is here too; she’s wearing a black dress today, and it’s almost more becoming than any other. Have you noticed her? Well, they are all wearing black today, that goes without saying; I’m just talking nonsense. Do you see the gentleman in the blue spring coat wearing glasses? That’s Dr. Stenersen. He’s not our district doctor, though; he has a private practice and was married last year. His wife is standing farther back; I don’t know whether you see the little dark-haired lady with a silk edging on her coat? Well, that’s Mrs. Stenersen. She’s rather sickly and has to be bundled up all the time. And there comes the deputy, too....”
“Can you show me Miss Kielland’s fiancé?” Nagel asked.
“Lieutenant Hansen, no. He’s not here, he’s cruising; he left several days ago. He left right after the engagement.”
After a brief silence Nagel said, “There were two flowers on the bottom of the grave, two white flowers—you wouldn’t know where they came from, would you?”
“Oh yes,” Miniman replies. “That is—are you asking me? Is it a question? ... I’m ashamed to tell you; maybe they would have let me place them on the coffin if I had asked, instead of throwing them away, so to speak, like that. But what good would two flowers do? And wherever I placed them, it would still be only two flowers. So instead I got up shortly after three this morning, or rather last night, and put them in the grave. I was even down there, on the bottom, and arranged them, and I said goodbye to him twice, out loud, while I was down in the grave. It affected me so deeply that I went into the woods afterward, burying my face in my hands with grief. It’s strange to part from somebody for ever, and though Jens Karlsen was way above me in every respect, he was still a good friend to me.”
“So the flowers were from you?”
“Yes, they were from me. But I didn’t do it to show off, as God is my witness. Anyway, it isn’t worth talking about a trifle like that. I bought them last night after leaving you to go home. It so happened that my uncle gave me half a krone for my own use when I brought him your money; he was so overjoyed that he almost knocked me over. He’s sure to come and thank you some day; oh yes, he certainly will, I know he will. But when he gave me this half-krone, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t gotten any flowers for the funeral, so I went down to the quayside—”
“You went down to the quayside?”
“Yes, to a lady who lives down there.”
“In a one-story house?”
“Yes.”
“Does the lady have white hair?”
“Yes, completely white hair; have you seen her? She’s the daughter of a sea captain, but is very poor. At first she wouldn’t accept my half-krone, but I left it on a chair anyway, though she protested and said no several times. She’s so shy, and I think she often suffers on account of her modesty.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Martha Gude.”
“Martha Gude.”
Nagel took out his notebook, wrote down her name and said, “Has she been married? Is she a widow?”
“No. She used to go with her father on his voyages for many years, as long as he commanded a ship; but since he died she has been living here.”
“Doesn’t she have any relations?”
“I don’t know. No, I don’t think so.”
“So what does she live on?”
“God knows what she lives on. Nobody knows anything about that. Come to think, she probably gets some poor relief.”
“Listen! You have been to the house of this lady, this Martha Gude, haven’t you? What does it look like in there?”
“What can it look like in a poor old cottage? There is a bed, a table, and