"Beauty was lovely and Love was very sweet; and if I choose Truth, it is like the stars, eternal." And Jehovah spake once more and asked me: "Have you chosen?" And my thoughts were many, my thoughts warred mightily within me, and I answered: "Beauty was like a morning glow." And when I had said this I whispered and said: "Love was also sweet and glorious like a little star in my soul." But then I felt Jehovah's eye on me, and Jehovah's eye read my thoughts. And for the third time Jehovah asked and said: "Have you chosen?" And when He said for the third time: "Have you chosen?" my eyes stared with terror, yes, all my strength had left me. And when He said for the last time: "Have you chosen?" I remembered Beauty and Love and remembered them both, and I answered Jehovah: "I choose Truth!" * * * * * But I still remember.... "Well, that's all," concluded Norem. Everybody was silent for a moment; then the Journalist said: "I refrain from expressing an opinion; I notice Milde is going to say something." And Milde did not refrain; far from it; on the contrary, he had a remark to make. Could anybody tell him what it was all about? He admired Ojen as much as anybody, but was there any sense to all this "Jehovah said" and "Jehovah said"? He wanted to be enlightened. "But why are you always so unkind to Ojen?" asked Mrs. Hanka. "Memories-- can't you understand? To me it seemed beautiful and full of feeling; don't spoil it for me now." And she turned to Aagot and said: "Didn't you find it so, too?" "But, dear Mrs. Hanka," exclaimed Milde, "don't say that I am always unkind to Ojen! Do I not wish him success with his application for the subsidy, contrary to my own interests? But this blessed new 'intention' is beyond me. Memories--all right. But where, in Heaven's name, is the point? Jehovah has never visited him; it is an invention. And, furthermore, why didn't he choose both Youth and Beauty, and Truth as well? That is what I should have done. The point, I say!" "But that is just it--there is no definite point," replied Ole Henriksen. "So Ojen says in a letter to me. Its effect lies in its euphony, he says." "He does? No, that fellow is the same wherever he goes. That is the trouble. Not even the mountains can do anything for him. Goats' milk and pine woods and peasant girls have not the slightest effect on him, as it were--I am still at a loss to understand why he sent _you_ his manuscript, Ole; but if it is an offence to ask, of course, then--" "I really don't know why he sent it to me," said Ole quietly. "He tells me that he wanted me to see that he was doing something and not wasting his time altogether. He is anxious to get back, though; he cannot stand Torahus any longer." Milde whistled. "I understand! He asked you for carfare!"