“What! fishing?”
“Do, please, only for a short time.”
“Well, perhaps I will, if Stellan comes too.”
It was always the same, Stellan had to be there too, and so Herman was forced against his will to go and persuade that young lordling, who lay in a tattered old hammock in the park, staring at his toes, to join them. Only after a long discussion did he lazily get out of the hammock.
At last three floats bobbed about on the half-clear, glittering, greenish June water which can look so warm and inviting from the shore and is yet so icy cold when you venture in.
Stellan had the first bite.
“What rotten fish! Not worth while getting dirty for!”
He was in a bad temper. It irritated him that Herman could find any pleasure in putting on worms for that fat Laura.
Now it was Herman’s turn. His float dived deep down without his noticing it; he was so absorbed in Laura. And when at last he awoke he pulled so violently that the roach got free and the hook caught in Laura’s hat. Then Laura scolded him and Stellan shrugged his shoulders.
“Were you hoarse yesterday, Herman?” he said in a cold, mocking voice.