Buying? Arni sighed. You think I can't shoot me a fox?
You! Jon laughed. That's a downright lie, my dear Arni.
A lie! You'd best not tell people they lie unless you know more about it. A scoundrel like you, I say, a scoundrel like you! replied Arni, swelling. I think you'd better be getting in and see her. You know her pretty well, I believe.
Jon looked at the farmer of Bali with his steely eyes.
For whom are you keeping the skin, Arni?
No one, said Arni, crossly; then after some hesitation: The Lord gave it to me.
All right, Arni. Miracles never cease. That is plain enough after this, and no question about it. That's an eighty-crown skin, however you came by it. But now let's go in and see Groa. As you say, I know her pretty well. She was a smart girl, you poor wretch. Too bad I was married and had to throw her to a creature like you.
Arni grinned and, trotting to the door of the house, called: Groa, a visitor to see you.
The woman came to the door. A smile played about her lips, smouldering embers glowed in her blue eyes, and the sunlight lighted up the unkempt braids of golden hair which fell down about her pale cheeks.
But Arni for once was satisfied. At last Jon was properly impressed. The affair between Groa and Jon was something that could not be helped. Jon surely regretted having lost that girl! Yes, indeed! And she had her good points. She was smart, and a hundred crowns a year, besides everything else that was brought them from Lon, was pretty good compensation. Yes, many a man had married less well than Arni of Bali. And the children were his, most of them, anyway. Nobody need tell him anything else.