"Yes, Ojen is one of our most significant ones," he said. "He is beginning to create a school in Germany. There can be no doubt that his poetry is unique."
"Exactly. I, too, got that impression. A little childish, perhaps; a little immature, but—He, he! as we were sitting there that evening he suddenly exclaimed: 'Do you know, gentlemen, why I use a capital R in God?' 'A capital R in God!' we wondered and looked at each other blankly; no; we did not know why. But Ojen burst into a peal of laughter and left— It was a good joke; it wasn't at all bad, he, he!"
And Coldevin smiled.
The Attorney laughed with him. "Oh, that fellow Ojen could surprise you with far better inventions; that was nothing for him. But his writing was euphonious, his diction pure—Do you know Irgens?"
Yes, Coldevin knew his name. He hadn't written very much?
"He does not write for the masses, no," answered the Attorney. "He writes for the chosen few. But his friends know that he has many beautiful things unpublished. Good God, what a master! It is impossible to place one's finger on a single thing he has done and say that it is below par. He is sitting in the corner now. Do you wish to meet him? I can arrange it for you. I know him well; no preliminaries are necessary."
But Coldevin asked to be excused. Some other time; then he could meet Paulsberg and the others also—"So that is Paulsberg!" he repeated. "One could tell it when he passed by; people were whispering about him. Nobody whispered when Ole Henriksen passed by. By the way, I suppose Mr. Henriksen is going to get married now?"
"I suppose so—Tell me—is it at all interesting to be a tutor? Isn't it a somewhat tedious occupation at times?"
"Oh, no," answered Coldevin smilingly. "Of course, it depends a good deal on both parents and children. It is all right if one happens to get among good people. It is, of course, only a poor and modest situation, but—I would not change even if I could."
"Are you a college man?"