I reread it many times. "Something that has happened." But I'm going to Sweden, I'm going to move about a little, and stop losing myself in the affairs of others. Do they think I am mankind's old uncle, that I can be summoned hither and thither to give advice? Excuse me, but I am going to assert myself and become quite inaccessible; the snow is just right, and I have planned a big journey--a business tour, I might almost call it, very important to me--I have a great deal at stake.... How composite is the mind of man! As I sit talking drivel to myself, and even sometimes saying an angry word aloud in order that Petra may hear it, I am not at all displeased at having received this letter; in fact secretly I am so pleased that I feel ashamed. It is merely because I shall soon see the town again--the town with its frostbitten gardens and its ships. But what on earth can this mean? Has she been to my landlady's and got my address? Or has she met Nikolai? I left at once. XXXV My landlady was surprised. "Why, good evening. How well and happy you look! Here's your mail." "Let it lie. I must tell you, Madame Henriksen, that you are a jewel." "Ha, ha, ha!" "Yes, you are. You are a very kind woman. But you have given my address to someone." "No, indeed; I swear I haven't." "No? Well, then someone else must have done so. Yes, you're right, I am happy, and tomorrow morning I shall get up very early and walk down by the shore." "But I did send a message," said my landlady. "I hope it wasn't wrong of me. To a lady who wanted to know as soon as you arrived." "A lady? You sent a message just now?" "A little while ago, as soon as you came in. A young, handsome lady; she might have been your daughter, you know." "Thank you." "Well, I'm only saying what's so. She said she would come at once, because she had to see you about something." The landlady left me. So Miss Torsen was coming this very evening; something must have happened. She had never visited me before. I looked round; yes, everything was neat and tidy. I washed and made myself ready. There, she can have that chair; I'd better light the other lamp, too. It might not be a bad idea to sit down to my correspondence; that would make a good impression, and if I put some letters in a small, feminine hand on top, it might even make her a little jealous--hee, hee. Oh, God, ten or fifteen years ago one could play such tricks; it's too late now.... Then she knocked and came in. I made no move to shake hands, and neither did she; I merely drew out a chair for her. "Excuse my coming like this," she said. "I asked Mrs. Henriksen to send me a message; it's nothing serious, and now I feel a little embarrassed about it, but--" I saw that it was something serious, and my heart began to pound. Why should my heart be affected? "This is the first time you've been in my rooms," I said, expectant and on the defensive.