I took the pipe, and saw the nail had begun to curl away from the wood. Said Falkenberg:
“The beastly thing was looking at me with a sort of nasty grin in the moonlight. And then when I remembered where you'd got that nail....”
Happy Falkenberg!
Next morning when we were ready to start off again, the daughter of the house had come home. We heard her thumping out a waltz on the piano, and a little after she came out and said:
“It's made no end of difference with the piano. Thank you very much.”
“I hope you may find it satisfactory,” said the piano-tuner grandly.
“Yes, indeed. There's quite a different tone in it now.”
“And is there anywhere else Frøkenen could recommend...?”
“Ask the people at Øvrebø; Falkenberg's the name.”
“What name?”