"A double celebration?" asked Gregersen.
"Exactly—yes. In the first place, Ole has returned, and that is of the greatest importance to us at present; I frankly admit that. But I have, in the second place, just been dispossessed from my studio, and that has also a certain solemn significance. What do you think? The landlady came and wanted money. 'Money?' I asked in amazement, and so on and so on. But the outcome was that I was put out, without notice—only a couple of hours'. Ha, ha! I have never heard of such a notice. Of course, she had already given me her ultimatum a month ago; still—I had to leave a couple of finished canvases. But I think this ought to be celebrated in wine, for Ole does not care what we drink."
"Of course not; why should I care?" asked Ole.
And the gentlemen drank industriously. They grew well disposed and cheerful before they took their departure. Irgens was first to leave; then Ojen followed. Ole remained until they had all gone, all except Norem, who sat there as usual and slumbered. He had listened to the talk. Occasionally he had injected a word. He had grown weary and subdued; a bitter disgust had taken possession of him and made him dully indifferent to everything.
At last he got up and paid his check.
The waiter halted him.
"Pardon me," he said, "but the wine—"
"The wine?" asked Ole. "I have only had a couple of glasses of beer."
"Yes, but the wine isn't paid for."
So the gentlemen hadn't paid their checks? For a moment the hot anger blazed up in him again; he was on the point of saying that if they would send the bill to Torahus it would be paid instantly. But he said: "All right; I can pay it, I suppose."