“Do you know I was in love with you? Yes, when I was at home.”
“This is getting quite amusing,” said I, shifting up on the sofa. “Oh, we'll manage Bewer, never fear.”
“Yes, only fancy, I used to go up to the churchyard to meet you in the evenings. But you, foolish person, you didn't see it a bit.”
“Now you're talking to Bewer, of course,” said I.
“No, it's perfectly true. And I came over one day when you were working in the potato fields. It wasn't your young Erik I came to see, not a bit.”
“Only think, that it should have been me,” I say, putting on a melancholy air.
“Yes, of course you think it was strange. But really, you know, people who live in the country must have some one to be fond of too.”
“Does Fru Falkenberg say the same?”
“Fru Falkenberg? No, she says she doesn't want to be fond of anybody, only play her piano and that sort of thing. But I was speaking of myself. Do you know what I did once? No, really, I can't tell you that. Do you want to know?
“Yes, tell me.”