"Drat it, I cannot get anything accomplished these days; this eternal sunshine has played me the scurvy trick of paralysing my imagination. I am in the middle of a descriptive passage about a rainy season, a raw and chilly milieu, and I cannot get anywhere with it." He mumbled maledictions about the weather. The Attorney was incautious enough to remark: "Why don't you write about the sunshine, then?" It was not many days since Paulsberg himself, in Milde's studio, had bluntly expressed an opinion to the effect that Attorney Grande had showed symptoms of a certain arrogance lately. He was right, the Attorney was becoming a little impertinent; it might be well to put him in his place once and for all. "You talk according to your lights!" said the Journalist oracularly. This reproach was received in silence; but shortly afterward Grande got up and buttoned his coat. "I don't suppose any of you are going my way?" he asked in order not to show any ill feeling. And as nobody answered he paid his check, said goodbye and left. More drinks were ordered. Mrs. Paulsberg arrived in the company of Ole and his fiancée. Coldevin moved as far back as he could until he found himself almost at another table. "We had to accompany Mrs. Paulsberg," said Ole good-naturedly; "we couldn't let her go alone." And he slapped Paulsberg on the shoulder. Miss Aagot had let a joyous exclamation escape her and had walked straight over to Coldevin, to whom she gave her hand. But what in the world had become of him? Hadn't she kept a continuous lookout for him on the streets and asked Ole about him every day? She was at a loss to understand why she saw him so rarely. She had had another letter from home, and everybody sent him their kindest regards. Why did he keep so entirely to himself? Coldevin stuttered many brief replies: there was no end of things to see and do, exhibitions and museums, Tivoli and Parliament; there were newspapers to read, lectures to attend; he also had to look up a few old friends. Furthermore, it was best not to disturb a newly engaged couple too much. Coldevin smiled archly; his lips trembled a little and he spoke with bowed head. Ole came over, overwhelmed him with the same reproaches, and received the same excuses. Coldevin was going to call on them to-morrow, though, they could rely on it; he had made up his mind before he met them. Provided he would not disturb them, of course. Disturb? He? What was he thinking of? Beer was served and everybody talked. Mrs. Paulsberg crossed her legs and gripped the glass in her masculine fashion. The Journalist monopolised her immediately. Ole continued his conversation with Coldevin. "I hope you are enjoying yourself here? Interesting people, these! There is Lars Paulsberg; have you met him?" "Yes, I have met him. He is the third one of our authors I have met. No doubt it is my fault; but, to tell the truth, none of them have made an overwhelming impression on me."