But the day proved all too short for me; I went up into the woods, and stayed roaming about there all by myself so long that I didn't get to the office to draw my money. Well, there was no hurry; I had plenty of time.
What was I to do now?
I had not cared much for the little town before, but now it began to interest me; I would gladly have stayed on a while. There were complications arising between two people whom I had been following attentively for some weeks past; something fresh might happen any moment now, there was no saying. I thought of going as apprentice to a blacksmith, just for the sake of staying in the place, but then, if I did, I should be tied to the smithy all day and hampered in my movements altogether; apart from which, the apprenticeship would take too many years of my life. And years were the thing I least of all could spare.
So I let the days pass, one after another; the weather changed round again to dry, sunny days. I stayed on at the lodging-house, mended my clothes, and got some new ones made at a shop. One of the maids in the house came up one evening and offered to do some mending for me, but I was more in the mood for fooling, and showed her how well I managed the work myself.
“Look at that patch, there, now—and that!” After a while a man came up the stairs and tried the door. “Open, you within!” he said.
“It's Henrik, one of the lumbermen,” said the girl.
“Is he your sweetheart?” I asked.
“No, indeed, I should think not,” she answered. “I'd rather go without than have a fellow like him.”
“Open the door, d'you hear!” cried the man outside. But the girl was not frightened in the least. “Let him stay outside,” she said. And we let him stay outside. But that door of mine bent inwards in a great curve every now and then, when he pushed his hardest.
At last, when we'd finished making fun about my needlework and her sweethearts, I had to go out and see the passage was clear before she would venture downstairs. But there was no man there.