"You know I don't care to speak for or against in such a matter," said Paulsberg. "But I have called at the ministry a few times and expressed my preference. I hope it may carry some weight."
"Of course, of course, I didn't mean—Well, the Exhibition closes to-morrow. We ought to get busy and finish that picture of yours. Can you sit tomorrow?"
Paulsberg nodded and turned away.
Irgens had gradually lost his good spirits; it irritated him that no one had mentioned his book. It was the latest event; why wasn't it even referred to? Everybody was only too familiar with Ojen's filigree fancies. Irgens shrugged his shoulders. Paulsberg had not indicated approval of his book by a single word. Perhaps he was waiting to be asked? But Irgens could get along without Paulsberg's opinion.
Irgens rose.
"Are you going?" asked Mrs. Hanka.
Irgens said good night to her and to Miss Aagot, nodded to the others, and left Sara's.
He had only gone a few steps when he heard somebody call him. Mrs. Hanka was hurrying after him; she had left her wraps in the cafe and had followed in order to say good night properly. Wasn't that nice of her? She smiled and was very happy.
"I have hardly seen you since I got your book. How I have enjoyed every word!" she exclaimed, and put her hand in his coat pocket in order to be close to him. He felt that she left an envelope in his pocket. "Oh, your verses, your verses!" she said again and again.
He could not remain impassive in the presence of this warm admiration. He wanted to return it, to show her how fond he was of her, and while in this mood he confided to her that he, too, had applied for the subsidy. What did she think of that? He had really applied, briefly and without enclosing any recommendations, simply sending his book. That ought to be sufficient.