He had not danced himself, by the way, but sat majestically apart drinking his tea.
But how he could talk! Until one hardly knew if it was real or all a dream....
It was light when she pulled off her soaking wet stockings and her sodden dancing shoes.
Yes, it must be some good angel that had put back the clock of time to-night. Here she was, walking in the woods of Aalborg with her lover. There was the fjord, and the moon drawing a silvery path right to her feet. Come, come!
She gazed with dimmed eyes towards the wondrous ball in the heavens, that called up tides in the seas and in hearts; she clung trustingly to her friend’s arm. And, glancing at him sideways, she saw that his eyes were looking out towards it too. Yes, their glances moved together, taking the same road out over the gliding waters of the Belt, in through a gate of clouds, to kneel at the full moon, that is the God of Fools.
A startled bird rose at their feet and flew, the air rushing audibly in its feathers.
“Listen—a lark! And singing now, though it’s night!”
“A lark!” Egholm took this, too, as an omen of good fortune for his turbine.
At the foot of the slope lay the boat, drawn up on land with props against the sides.
He explained it all, the parts that were there and the rest that should be added as soon as Krogh had got the turbine finished. He spoke eagerly and disconnectedly; none but an expert could have understood him. But Anna kept on saying: