“What!” cried Jomfru van Loos. “What’s that you say?”
“I say you’re clean out of your senses in the spring. Look at me now; did you ever see the least little restlessness about me in the spring?”
“Oh, you’re a man,” she answered carelessly. “But, anyhow, I won’t put up with this nonsense about Olga.”
“This new priest—is he rich?” asked Rolandsen.
Jomfru van Loos wiped her eyes and turned sharp and sensible all at once.
“Rich? As far as I can see he’s as poor as can be.”
Rolandsen’s hope was shattered.
“You should see his clothes,” she went on. “And her’s. Why, some of her petticoats.... But he’s a wonderful preacher. Have you heard him?”
“No.”
“One of the wonderfullest preachers I’ve ever heard,” says Jomfru van Loos in her Bergen dialect.