"I had a letter from Ojen," said Milde. "It looks as if he were coming back soon; he does not appear to enjoy himself out in the woods."
All these matters did not interest Irgens in the least. He made up his mind to get away as soon as he could. Coldevin said nothing, but glanced from one to another with his sombre eyes. When he had been presented to Irgens he had murmured a few words, sat down again and remained silent. Irgens looked at him languidly and was silent too. When he had finished his seidel he got up to go.
"Are you leaving us so soon?"
"Yes; I have got to go home and dress. I am going to Tivoli. See you later."
Irgens left.
"There you see the famous Irgens," said the Attorney to Coldevin.
"Yes, indeed," answered Coldevin with a smile. "I see so much greatness here that I am getting altogether bewildered. I saw the Art Exhibition to-day—It seems to me that our poets are beginning to pay considerable attention to their personal appearance; I have seen a couple of them; they are so groomed and patent-leathered—one can hardly say they come thundering along with foam-flecked bridles."
"Why should they? The fashions have changed, you know."
"I suppose so."
Coldevin was again silent.