But, after all, you were not so badly off; you had your trade to fall back upon.
Aslaksen.
That’s easily said. After getting out of your class you can’t get into it again. They took the ground from under my feet, and shoved me out on the slippery ice—and then they abuse me because I stumble.
Fieldbo.
Well, far be it from me to judge you harshly——
Aslaksen.
No; you have no right to.—What a queer jumble it is! Daniel Heire, and Providence, and the Chamberlain, and Destiny, and Circumstance—and I myself in the middle of it! I’ve often thought of unravelling it all and writing a book about it; but it’s so cursedly entangled that——[Glances towards the door on the left.] Ah! They’re rising from table.
[The party, ladies and gentlemen, pass from the dining-room into the garden, in lively conversation. Among the guests is Stensgård, with Thora on his left arm and Selma on his right. Fieldbo and Aslaksen stand beside the door at the back.
Stensgård.
I don’t know my way here yet; you must tell me where I am to take you, ladies.