I had not done it: I was standing at the other end of the room when it happened. After that I drank pretty hard again, and kept near the door, to be out of the way of the dancers.
The Baron still had the ladies constantly round him. He regretted that his collections were packed away, so that he could not show them--that bunch of weed from the White Sea, the clay from Korholmerne, highly interesting stone formations from the bottom of the sea. The ladies peeped curiously at his shirt studs, the five-pointed coronets--they meant that he was a Baron, of course. All this time the Doctor created no sensation; even his witty oath, _Död og Pinsel_, no longer had any effect. But when Edwarda was speaking, he was always on the spot, correcting her language, embarrassing her with little shades of meaning, keeping her down with calm superiority.
“... until I go over the valley of death.”
“The valley of death. Isn't that what it's called--the valley of death?”
“I have heard of the river of death. I presume that is what you mean.”
Later on, she talked of having something guarded like a ...
“You can thank me for saving you there. I am sure you were going to say Argus.”
The Baron raised his eyebrows and looked at the Doctor in surprise through his thick glasses, as if he had never heard such ridiculous things. But the Doctor paid no heed. What did he care for the Baron?
I still lurked by the door. The dancers swept through the room. I managed to start a conversation with the governess from the vicarage. We talked about the war, the state of affairs in the Crimea, the happenings in France, Napoleon as Emperor, his protection of the Turks; the young lady had read the papers that summer, and could tell me the news. At last we sat down on a sofa and went on talking.
Edwarda, passing, stopped in front of us. Suddenly she said:
“You must forgive me, Lieutenant, for surprising you outside like that. I will never do it again.”
And she laughed again, and did not look at me.
She had spoken very formally, which meant no good, and her look was malicious. I thought of the Doctor, and shrugged my shoulders carelessly, as he would have done. She said:
“But why don't you go out in the kitchen? Eva is there. I think you ought to stay there.”