That same evening Evangelist Karlsen came round.
Egholm shook his head nervously.
“It’s no good, Karlsen. No. I’m not going to give in.”
Young Karlsen stood staring open mouthed.
“No. I’ve settled up with myself once and for all. I won’t give in. I know well enough what you’ve come for.”
“But, my dear friends, what on earth are you talking about? Anything wrong?”
“Karlsen, you know as well as I do it’s your father sent you round,” said Egholm almost pleadingly.
“I swear I know nothing of the sort. I’ve only just got back this evening. From Veile. Know Justesen, the horsedealer, there? Been seeing him. And then on the way—I’ve been dragging my bag along, and it’s heavy. I thought I’d just look in for a breather.”
“Let Sivert carry it for you,” said Fru Egholm.