It was one of his clerks who came to remind him that it was late. Should he close up? "Yes, close up. But wait; I am through now; I am going, too. Bring me the keys." Nobody should be able to say that he broke down because of a shabby trick like this. He would show people that he could keep his composure. He might go to the Grand and celebrate his return with a plain glass of beer! That would be just the thing. He had no intention of avoiding people. He had a revolver lying in a desk drawer; but had he wanted to use that, even for the briefest moment? Had he _thought_ of it even? Not at all. It just occurred to him now that it might be getting rusty. No, thank God! one was not exactly weary of life.... Ole Henriksen went to the Grand. He sat down at a table and ordered his glass of beer. A moment later he felt somebody slap him on the shoulder. He looked up; it was Milde. "Good old boy!" shouted Milde. "Are you sitting here without saying a word? Welcome back! Come over to the window; you will find a couple of the fellows there." Ole went over to the window. There were Ojen, Norem, and Gregersen, all of them with half-empty wine-glasses in front of them. Ojen jumped up and said pleasantly: "Welcome home, old man! I am glad to see you again. I have missed you a good deal. I am coming down to-morrow to see you. There is something I want to see you about." Gregersen gave him a finger. Ole took it, sat down, and told the waiter to bring him his beer. "What! are you drinking beer? No, beer will never do on this occasion; it must be wine!" "Well, drink what you want to. I am drinking beer." Just then Irgens arrived, and Milde called to him: "Ole is drinking beer, but we are not going to do that. What do you say?" Irgens did not show the least sign of embarrassment when he faced Ole; he barely nodded and said indifferently: "Welcome home!" And Ole looked at him and noticed that his cuffs were not entirely clean; as a matter of fact, his dress was not quite up to his usual standard. But Milde repeated his question: wasn't it a little too commonplace to drink beer at a double celebration? "A double celebration?" asked Gregersen. "Exactly--yes. In the first place, Ole has returned, and that is of the greatest importance to us at present; I frankly admit that. But I have, in the second place, just been dispossessed from my studio, and that has also a certain solemn significance. What do you think? The landlady came and wanted money. 'Money?' I asked in amazement, and so on and so on. But the outcome was that I was put out, without notice--only a couple of hours'. Ha, ha! I have never heard of such a notice. Of course, she had already given me her ultimatum a month ago; still--I had to leave a couple of finished canvases. But I think this ought to be celebrated in wine, for Ole does not care what we drink." "Of course not; why should I care?" asked Ole.