"It is sad to observe how bitter Irgens has grown; have you noticed it? I hope he will get over it soon." And Mrs. Hanka, who wanted to save him from making too unfavourable an impression, added in the goodness of her heart what she had heard Irgens himself say so often: It was not so strange, after all; bitterness of that character could only arouse respect. Here he had toiled and worked for years, had given freely of his treasures, and the country, the government, had refused to offer him a helping hand. "Can you understand it?" said Aagot also. And she realised instantly that she had not treated this man with the consideration due him; she had been tactless; she had rebuffed him with unnecessary harshness. She wished her conduct had been different; however, it was too late now. Paulsberg returned from his solitary walk and suggested that it was time to think of the return. The clouds held a menace of rain, he said; the sun was sinking and it was blowing up a little. Aagot went around again and poured coffee. She bent over Irgens, bent deeper than necessary, and said: "May I pour you some, Mr. Irgens?" The almost supplicating note in her voice made him glance at her in surprise. He did not want any coffee, thanks; but he smiled at her. She was happy at once; she hardly knew what she was carrying, but she stammered: "Just a little, please." He looked at her again and said: "No, thanks." On the return trip Irgens seemed a different person. He chatted, entertained the ladies, helped even poor Ojen, who suffered greatly. Milde had captured a bottle on the pretext that it was drink time again, and Irgens drank with him simply to be accommodating. Mrs. Hanka's spirits also rose; she was lively and cheerful, and a strange association of ideas made her suddenly decide to ask her husband for a couple of hundred crowns this very evening. Tidemand was at the tiller and could not be dislodged; he sailed the boat and did not utter a syllable. He looked well as he stood high in the stern, rising and falling against the blue background of sea and sky. His wife called to him once and asked him if he were cold, an attention he could hardly believe and therefore pretended not to hear. "He is deaf," she said smilingly. "Are you cold Andreas?" "Cold? Not at all," he called back. And by and by the party reached the jetty. Hardly had Ojen stepped ashore before he called a cab. He was in a hurry to get home and find his manuscript or learn the worst. He could not rest until he knew his fate. But perhaps he would meet the company later on. Would they be at Sara's? They looked at each other uncertainly and did not know what to say. But Ole Henriksen declared that he was going home; he was thinking of Tidemand, who was in need of rest and quiet. They parted outside Tidemand's house. Mrs. Hanka asked abruptly, before even the door was opened: "Will you please let me have a hundred or so?"