Peter had no proofs at all that she too was involved in Brundin’s frauds, but he always seized an opportunity of boasting of his kindness and of threatening a little. Frida was not at all frightened. No, but she was too worldly-wise to issue a challenge to money and power.
She therefore contented herself with lying in a humble tone about the whole affair:
“No, I had nothing to do with that scoundrel, sir. And besides a poor girl can’t understand all that men do....”
By now Frida had already backed out on to the stairs and as soon as she felt safe she at once adopted her most seductive manner again:
“I hope I may iron many wedding shirts for you, sir,” she said, and curtsied and smiled and tripped gaily away, white, plump and coquettishly swaying whatever was capable of being swayed.
Peter stood on the stairs mumbling curses after her. Then he climbed breathlessly up into the observatory and watched with his glass to his eyes where she would emerge from the avenue into the road. He followed the white little figure in the twilight till it disappeared in a strange black house up on the ridge of the hill over Majängen.
A woman had entered the life of Peter the Boss. He was in love, positively in love with Frida Öberg, owner of the Majängen Laundry, No. 5, Solbacken.
Peter had never been able to associate with decent women. He was frightened of the “guinea hens,” as he called them. He grew nervous and hot from the unaccustomed effort of not saying anything coarse or mingling curses with his speech. He even felt a sort of fear of his sister Laura. Once many years ago she had dragged him into a set of Lancers and that was one of his most awful memories. Even today he felt a shiver down his back whenever he saw a dress suit. Thus it is clear that Peter’s erotic experiences were of the simplest. They were all lost in the fog that lies between the revels of the evening and the sore head and sordid regrets of the morning.
But now he was in love, but it was a delight mingled with not a little worry and anxiety. From the very start he felt love as a threat to his purse. He had anxious little suspicions that he was now more susceptible to cheating than before. For the first time he had to be on his guard not only against others but also against himself. “Ugh, this will be an expensive business,” he thought, when the longing to see Frida again came on him. She is no fool, that little witch! She won’t do anything for nothing. He positively endowed her with a calculating cunning and a mysterious seductive self-interest. But the more difficult and dangerous he made her, the more he must love her. Peter the Boss suspected a soul akin to his own.
He made up his mind not to appear too eager. No, I’ll wait till she brings the laundry again, he thought. But time passed, until he could not wait and began to hover about Majängen.