Waltz, mazurka, schottische, square dance, waltz. I soon noticed a man who was dancing with great assiduity, never stopping once--tall, swarthy, lively--a heartbreaker. The ladies clustered round him. "Can that be Solem down there dominating the crowd?" I thought. "Wouldn't you like to dance?" I asked Carpenter Nikolai. "Oh, no," he replied with a smile. "Then we can leave any time you like." "All right," he said and remained seated. "Your thoughts seem to be far away." A long pause. "I was thinking that I haven't a horse on my farm. I have to carry all the manure and the wood myself." "So that's why you're so strong." "I'll have to go home in a few days and chop wood for the winter." "Yes, of course you will." "I was going to say--," he persisted, and then fell silent. "Yes?" "No, it's no use suggesting it. I'd have liked you to come with me this winter, though--I've got a small spare room." "Why should I go there?" Still--it wasn't a bad idea. "It would be nice if you could," said the carpenter. Just then I heard the name of Solem mentioned in the hall. Yes, there he was, swaggering as usual, the self-same Solem from Tore Peak. He was standing alone, in high spirits, announcing that he was Solem--"Solem, my lad." He appeared not to be in the company of any one lady, for I saw him choosing partners indiscriminately. Then he chose the wrong lady, and her partner shook his head and said no. Solem remembered that. He allowed the couple to dance the next dance, and when it was finished, approached again and bowed to the lady. Once more he was refused. The lady's appearance was striking--sophisticated or innocent, who could tell? Ash-blonde, tall, Grecian, in a black frock without trimming. How quiet and retiring she was! Of course she was a tart, but what a gentle one--a nun of vice, with a face as pure as that of a repentant sinner. Peerless! This was a woman for Solem. It was after he had received his second "No" from the gentleman that he began to talk, to tell everyone that he was "Solem, my lad." But his boasts were dull: Something was going to happen; he would show them an image of sin! There was no sting in it; just old, familiar rubbish these people had heard before. The commissionaire crossed over to him and asked him to be quiet, pointing at the same time to the constable by the door. This pouring of oil on the waters was successful, for Solem himself said: "Hush, we mustn't make trouble." But he did not lose sight of the Grecian and her partner. He allowed a few dances to pass again, himself engaging other partners to dance with. There was now a huge crowd, all the late-comers having by this time arrived. Many were crowded off the floor and had to wait, rushing to get first place in the next dance instead. Then something happened.