Forward the spirits of the company rose rapidly. Ojen began to get a little seasick, and drank steadily in order to subdue his qualms. "It seems good to see you again," said Mrs. Hanka, prompted by a desire to enliven him. "You still have your delicate face, but it is not quite as pale as before you went away." "But what is the matter with your eyes?" cried Mrs. Paulsberg mercilessly. "I have never seen him as pallid as at this very moment." This reference to his seasickness caused general merriment. Mrs. Hanka continued to speak: She had heard his latest poem, that exquisite gem, "Memories." His excursion had certainly been fruitful in results. "You haven't heard my very latest poem, though," said Ojen in a weak voice; "it has an Egyptian subject; the action takes place in an ancient tomb--" And, sick and miserable as he was, he looked through all his pockets for this poem. What could have become of it? He had taken it out that morning with the intention of bringing it along; he had thought that perhaps somebody would care to listen to it. He was not afraid of saying that it really was a little out of the ordinary. He sincerely hoped he hadn't lost it; in that case the trip would have proved most unfortunate for him. Never had he produced anything so remarkable; it was only a couple of pages, but.... "No," said Mrs. Hanka, "you must surely have left it behind." And she did her best to make the poor poet forget his groundless fears. She had been told that he preferred the city to the country? He did, most assuredly. No sooner had his eyes beheld the straight lines of streets and houses than his brain was aquiver, and he had conceived that Egyptian prose poem. If that had been lost, now.... Milde had lately begun to appreciate Ojen; at last his eyes had been opened to his poetry's delicate uniqueness. Irgens, who sat close enough to hear this unusual praise, leaned over to Mrs. Hanka and said in a low voice: "You understand? Milde knows he has nothing to fear from his competitor any more--hence his change of attitude." And Irgens pressed his lips together and smiled venomously. Mrs. Hanka glanced at him. How he persisted in his bitterness; how unbecoming it was in him! He did not realise it, or he would not have thus compressed his lips and continually shot baleful glances at his fellow applicants. Otherwise Irgens was silent; he ignored Aagot entirely. She thought: What have I done to him? Could I possibly have acted in any other way?