that the man is dressed in black and that all you can see of him are his face and eyes. Well, what of it? Ah, who can fathom what takes place in the human soul! ... You join a company some evening, let’s say there are twelve of you, and the thirteenth—it may be a female telegraph operator, a poor law school graduate, an office clerk, or a steamship captain, in short, a person of no importance whatever—sits in a corner without taking part in the conversation, or making any other kind of noise; and yet, this thirteenth person does have a value, not only per se but also as a factor in the group. Just because he’s wearing this or that garb, because he remains so silent, because he looks around at the other guests with a rather stupid, inane expression, and because his role on the whole is to be so insignificant—just because of that, he helps to define the character of the group. Just because he says nothing, he has a negative effect and produces a faint, pervasive note of gloom in the room, which causes the other guests to speak just so loud and not louder. Am I not right? In this way, that person can literally become the most powerful member of the group. As I’ve said, I’m not a good judge of people, and yet I often find it amusing to notice the tremendous value trifles can sometimes have. Thus, I once witnessed how a total stranger, a poor engineer who absolutely refused to open his mouth ... But that’s another story and has nothing to do with this one, except insofar as they have both passed through my brain and left their traces. However, to pursue the matter in hand, who knows whether your silence this evening hasn’t given my words their special tone—with all due respect to my excessive intoxication—whether the expression of your face at this moment, that half wary, half innocent look in your eyes, doesn’t stimulate me to speak precisely the way I do! It’s quite natural. You listen to what I say—what a drunk man says—and somehow or other you feel smitten now and then, to employ a word I’ve already used; I feel tempted to go even further and throw another dozen words in your face. I refer to this simply as an example of the value of trifles. Don’t disregard trifles, my dear friend! Trifles have an enormous value, for Christ’s sake—. Come in!”
It was Sara who knocked, announcing that supper was ready. Miniman got up at once. Nagel was now visibly intoxicated and couldn’t even speak clearly any longer; besides, he was constantly contradicting himself and talking more and more nonsense. His preoccupied look and the swollen veins in his temples showed that his mind was grappling with many thoughts.
“Well,” he said, “I’m not surprised that you would like to take this opportunity to leave, after all the chatter you’ve had to put up with this evening. Still, there are several other things I would’ve liked to hear your opinion of; for instance, you never answered my question about what, in your heart of hearts, you think of Miss Kielland. To me, she is a most rare and unattainable being, full of loveliness, pure and white as the driven snow—try to imagine a really pure, deep snow, like silk. That’s how I think of her. If I gave you a different impression by what I said earlier, it’s erroneous.... So let me drink my last glass with yau. Skaal! ... But just now something occurred to me. If you have the patience to listen to me for another minute or two, I would be very much obliged to you, indeed. The fact is—come a little closer, the walls of this building are very thin10—well, the fact is I’m hopelessly in love with Miss Kielland. There, I’ve said it! These poor, cold words don’t say much, but God in heaven knows how madly I love her and how much I suffer because of her. Well, that’s another matter—I love, I suffer, that’s all right, it’s beside the point. So! But I hope you will treat my candor with all the discretion it deserves, do you promise me that? Thank you, my dear friend! But, you say, how can I be in love with her when I called her a big flirt a little while ago? In the first place, one can easily love a flirt, why