“I don’t understand you,” said Olga.
“Oh! And do you suppose I understand myself? Not in the least. I’ve lost my senses. Here I am now, for instance, paving the way for you to plague me through the night that’s to come.”
“Then why don’t you go away?” said Olga.
“I was listening to a voice last night—a voice within me. All unspeakable things it said. In a word, I resolved to take a great decision, if you think you can advise me to do it.”
“How can I? I’ve nothing to do with it.”
“Ho!” said Rolandsen. “You’re full of bitter words to-day. Sitting there lashing out all the time. Talking of something else, you’ll have that hair of yours falling off before long. There’s too much of it.”
Olga was silent.
“Do you know Børre the organ-blower? There’s a girl of his I could have if I cared.”
Olga burst out laughing at that, and stared at him.