And at dinner she came down, the only lady amongst so many men, half naked, wrapped in some green silk stuff that really cried aloud of her lost youth. And she herself gave the signal for the naughty stories after dinner. Grotesque!
As if that were not unpleasant enough they began to talk about the neighbouring Järnö. And who should start that topic but Laura. She was half lying in her chair and told lots of stories about dear old Tord. There was a moment of painful silence, but as the family itself did not seem to mind ... well, then they let their tongues wag. Nobody mentioned such a trifle as that Tord had the Governor of the province at him all the time for neglect. That was to be seen in any paper. But now he had put up big notices:
“Landing forbidden on penalty of death.
Tord of Järnö.”
And he actually did shoot at people who entered his waters. Von Brauner himself had once sought shelter there during a thunderstorm and had heard the bullets whizz about his ears. The people round about were so furious that an accident might happen at any moment.
“A philosopher who has read too much Darwin and Nietzsche,” mumbled Stellan. “He wants to be a living protest against the more sentimental theories.”
Stellan tried to save the situation by being objective at the same time as he appealed to the sportman’s individualism and the aristocratic prejudices of the company.
But Laura laughed:
“Nonsense, he is just mad. But anyhow, madmen may be rather jolly.”
The following day Stellan left Gränö in order to go to Järnö and talk to Tord. It was not so easy to get Laura to come with him, because she felt very much at home amongst the shooting party. But now they were on their way anyhow. The motor boat already began to plunge in the rougher and heavier seas of the big Järnö bay.