“No, you're right,” said Falkenberg. “And I say, if I find he isn't decent to her, there'll be trouble.”
Then one evening Falkenberg gave us a song. And I was proud of him as ever. Fruen came out, and he had to sing it over again, and another one after; his fine voice filled the room, and Fruen was delighted, and said she had never heard anything like it.
And then it was I began to be envious.
“Have you learnt singing?” asked Fruen. “Can you read music at all?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Falkenberg. “I used to sing in a club.”
Now that was where he should have said: no, worse luck, he'd never learned, so I thought to myself.
“Have you ever sung to any one? Has any one ever heard you?”
“I've sung at dances and parties now and again. And once at a wedding.”
“But I mean for any one that knew: has any one tried your voice?”
“No, not that I know of—or yes, I think so, yes.”