He knew not what to reply; thereupon Marit, too, became embarrassed,
and all three were silent. But Hans gradually managed to steal away.
The two remained behind, neither looking at each other, nor stirring.
Finally Marit whispered:—
"I have been keeping some Christmas goodies in my pocket for you, Oyvind, the whole evening, but I have had no chance to give them to you before."
She drew forth some apples, a slice of a cake from town, and a little half pint bottle, which she thrust into his hand, and said he might keep. Oyvind took them.
"Thank you!" said he, holding out his hand; hers was warm, and he dropped it at once as if it had burned him.
"You have danced a good deal this evening," he murmured.
"Yes, I have," she replied, "but you have not danced much," she added.
"I have not," he rejoined.
"Why did you not dance?"
"Oh"—
"Oyvind!"