"Look at all the cleaning that goes on here!" Nikolai said, laughing. "That's her idea of fun!"
And I had believed Carpenter Nikolai incapable of lightheartedness! Yet I had seen how content he had been all the way home, how deeply content, and proud of the little lady he was bringing with him. Even now he was still stroking her.
Fru Ingeborg rose to her feet, her skirts dark with the damp. It all seemed strange to me; her hair was so gray. I needed a little time, a moment, to collect myself, and turned away to give her time, too.
"What a lovely horse!" I heard her exclaim.
Nikolai went on stroking the mare.
"I've brought a visitor with me," he said.
I went to her and perhaps--I don't know--perhaps I rather overdid my unconcern. I greeted her and insisted on shaking her wet hand, which she hesitated to give me. I was anxious to appear quite formal with her, and shook her hand as I repeated my greeting.
"Well, of all people!" she replied.
I persisted in my formal attitude.
"You must blame your husband," I said. "It's his fault that I'm here."