Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel - Alexander Lange Kielland (best way to read ebooks txt) 📗
- Author: Alexander Lange Kielland
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Drudgery Of Household Duties! Their Intellect Was Wasted, And Their
Strength Exhausted For Nothing. It Was Quite Easy To Talk So Glibly Of
Purity In a State Of Society Where Man Was To Know Everything And Have A
Right To Everything, While Woman Was To Be Debarred From All
Intellectual Knowledge.
At The First Pause In The Conversation, Aalbom Came To The Front As
Woman'S Champion, And The Magistrate And Martens Joined Him. The
Conversation Now Waxed Warmer, And Delphin Wandered Off To Madeleine,
Leaving Worse Struggling Alone Against The Arguments Which Both Sides
Brought To Bear On Him. The Disputants Became Heated And Excited, And
All Went On Talking At Once, Without Giving Time For The Others To
Finish Their Sentences.
The _Attache_ Stood With His Hands Behind His Back, Regarding With
Apprehension The Storm He Had Raised, And Which Was Now Out Of His Power
To Quell.
Mr. Johnsen Made Several Attempts To Join In The Conversation, Which
Had, However, Become So Warm That No One Could Be Got To Listen To His
Measured And Carefully Worded Remarks. Rachel Followed The Arguments
With The Greatest Interest, But She Could Not Help Feeling Annoyed. She
Was Annoyed When The Others Said Anything Stupid, And Even Still More So
When She Was Obliged To Confess That Worse Was In The Right. Everything
Seemed To Irritate Her. She Could Not Bear To Hear These Men Discussing
Her And Her Position As If She Were Some Strange Animal, And Without
Ever Having The Grace To Ask Her Opinion. The Conversation Had Now Gone
Far Beyond Woman'S Position, Although Jacob Worse Tried In Vain To Keep
Them To The Point. Off They Went Through Recent Literature, Foreign
Politics, Home Politics, Ever With Increasing Earnestness, And With The
Same Division Of Parties. Latterly The Pastor Had Come More To The
Chapter 8 Pg 59Front. Aalbom'S Voice Began To Fail Him, And The Magistrate Was Unable
Any Longer To Get Beyond The Beginning Of His Sentences, And Could Do
Little Else Than Point To His Decorations And Say, "For God And The
King!" And Before They Knew Where They Were, They Found Themselves On
The Subject Of Modern Scepticism.
Jacob Worse Protested Against This Digression; But Martens, Whose Voice
Was Just As Calm As When He Began, Maintained That This Lay At The
Bottom Of The Whole Question, And That Modern Unbelief Formed, As It
Were, A Background To All The Questions They Had Been Discussing, And
That All The Arguments That Were Adduced From A "Certain Point Of View"
Had Their Roots In This Very Principle.
The Magistrate And Aalbom Were Agreed On This Point, But Jacob Worse,
With A Pale Face And Excited Gestures, Began, "Gentlemen--!"
The Consul Here Made A Sign To Miss Cordsen, Who Opened The Doors Into
The Dining-Room, From Whence The Bright Light Shone Suddenly Into The
Room. The Disputants Only Now Remarked That It Had Become Quite Dark As
They Were Talking. The Company Then Adjourned To The Dining-Room,
Thankful Enough To Have A Little Breathing-Time, But The Voices Still
Retained Traces Of The Excitement.
"Where Did You Get Those Splendid Lobsters, Mother?" Asked Morten, Who
Had Suddenly Turned Up, No One Knew From Whence. He Never Missed His
Meals.
"Uncle Richard Brought Them," Answered Mrs. Garman. "I Think He Has A
Fisherman At Bratvold, Who Always Brings Him The Finest Lobsters That
Are To Be Got." She Had Taken Care To Help Herself To Some Of The Coral,
Which Looked Most Appetizing In Its Contrast To The White Meat.
Madeleine Got Almost As Red As The Lobster, And Bent Down Over Her
Teacup. Per, And Everything Connected With Her Old Home, Now Seemed So
Distant, That When She Thought Upon Her Original Intention Of Making An
Open Confession, The Idea Seemed Mere Folly. She Was Indeed Thankful
That None Of Those Around Her Guessed How Near She Had Been To Such An
Absurd Engagement.
The Two Brothers, When They Were Going To Bed That Evening, Had A Chat
Over The Events Of The Day. Richard'S Room Opened Into The Consul'S, And
Notwithstanding That His Habit Of Smoking Cigarettes Was An Abomination
To His Brother, The Door Between The Rooms Always Remained Open At
Night. Each Had His Own Particular Method Of Undressing. The Consul Took
Off Each Garment In due Order, Folded It Up, And Laid It In Its
Appointed Place. Richard, On The Other Hand, Tore Off His Things And
Threw Them About Anyhow. He Then Wrapped Himself In His Dressing-Gown,
And Sat Down And Smoked Till His Brother Was Ready.
"He Is The Very Devil, That Worse!" Said The _Attache_, Leaning Back In
The Armchair; "But It Does Me Good To Hear Any One Speak Out His Mind So
Plainly."
"He Is Too Violent; He Forgets Conventionalities."
"It Is Possible To Have Too Much Conventionality. It Is Well For Young
People To Air Their Views; It Does Them Good."
Chapter 8 Pg 60"What Nonsense You Are Talking, Dick!" Cried The Consul, Entering His
Brother'S Room. "What The Deuce Would Become Of The World If Youngsters
Were Allowed To Jabber Like That On Every Possible Occasion?"
But Uncle Richard Was Not Nervous When They Were _Tete-A-Tete_. He Got
Slowly Up From His Chair, And Let His Dressing-Gown Slip Off His
Shoulders; And The Two Brothers Now Stood Opposite Each Other, In Very
Different _Deshabille_. The Young Consul Was In His Night-Shirt, And A
Pair Of Flannel Drawers Tied At The Knees With Broad Tape. His Thin Legs
Were Thrust Into Long Grey Stockings, Which Miss Cordsen Alone Knew How
To Knit. Richard Had A Pair Of Turkish Slippers, Thread Stockings, Which
Fitted Closely To His Well-Formed Leg, And A Shirt Of Fine Material
Stiffly Starched, In Which He Always Slept. There Were None Of His
Brother'S Failings Which The Consul Disliked More Than This.
"I Tell You What, Christian Frederick," Said Uncle Richard, As He Laid
His Hand On His Brother'S Shoulder, "I Don'T Say That Young People Will
Do The World A Great Deal Of Good By Making A Noise, But I Am Quite
Certain That None Of Us Have Done It Much Good By Holding Our Tongue."
"What Do You Mean? Nonsense, Richard!" Said The Consul, Contemptuously,
As He Turned Back Into His Room.
They Both Got Into Bed And Put Out Their Lights.
"Good Night, Christian Frederick."
"Good Night," Answered The Consul, Rather Drily; But Just As Uncle
Richard Was On The Point Of Falling Asleep, He Heard His Brother Say--
"Dick, Dick! Are You Asleep?"
"No, Not Quite," Answered The Other, Sitting Up In bed.
"Well, Then, Perhaps There Was Something In What You Said Just Now. Good
Night."
"Good Night," Said The _Attache_, Lying Down With A Smile On His Face. A
Few Minutes After The Two Old Gentlemen Were Snoring Peacefully In
Unison.
Chapter 9 Pg 61
Gustaf Torpander Was Still Consumed By His Silent Passion. Every Penny
He Could Save He Devoted Either To Heightening His Personal Attractions
Or To Treating Marianne'S Brother; For Hitherto He Had Never Had The
Courage To Offer Her Any Presents Personally. The Circuitous Course He
Was Thus Driven To Follow In His Courtship, Was Not Altogether Agreeable
Chapter 9 Pg 62To The Swede, And The Drinking Bouts At Begmand'S Cottage, In Which He
Was Obliged To Take Part In Order To Get A Glimpse Of His Sweetheart, He
Found Particularly Distasteful.
At First Marianne Was Greatly Annoyed By The Attentions Of The
Journeyman Printer. From Her Earliest Childhood, The Knowledge Of Her
Exceptional Beauty Had Made Her Careful To Be On Her Guard Against Any
Advances From The Other Sex; But Since Her Misfortune, She Had Come To
Regard Every Attention As A Kind Of Persecution. But Her Shyness Was
Generally Received With An Incredulous Smile Or A Coarse Joke. What
Shocked Her Most Was, That Men Seemed No Longer To Believe That She
Really Meant To Shun Them In earnest, And She Was Therefore Quite
Nervous If Any Of Them Approached Her. When, However, She Saw That
Torpander Did Not Presume On His Acquaintance, And Preserved His Polite
And Even Respectful Manner, She Became At Last Used To His Society, And
Had Even A Kind Of Sympathetic Feeling For Him. For Tom Robson She Had
Always An Unconquerable Aversion. It Is True That She Saw Tom Only From
His Worst Side, When He Was Drinking. In The Morning, When Robson Was
Sober, There Was Something Of The Gentleman About Him. He Was Always
Neatly Dressed In a Blue Serge Suit, Coloured Shirt, And In dry Weather
Wore Canvas Shoes. It Was A Great Pleasure For The Young Consul To Go
His Morning Round In The Ship-Yard With Mr. Robson. The Work Went On
Bravely, And The Ship Bid Fair To Be Both Handsome And Well Built. Mr.
Garman Knew Tom'S Weakness As Well As Any One, But As Long As He
Attended To His Work He Was Free To Use His Leisure As He Liked. The
Firm Had Always Worked On The Principle That The Less The Workpeople
Were Interfered With The Better. They Worked All The Better For It, And
Gave Far Less Trouble Generally.
"I Think She Ought To Be Ready Next Spring," Said The Consul One Day In
The Beginning Of July.
"In About Eight Or Nine Months, If The Winter Is Not Too Wet," Answered
Tom.
"I Should Be Very Pleased If We Could Manage To Launch Her On The 15Th
Of May," Said The Consul, In a Low Tone; "But You Must Not Mention The
Day To Any One; You Understand, Mr. Robson?"
"All Right, Sir," Answered Tom.
Tom Did Not Betray The Day, Even To His Friend Master Gabriel; He Only
Said It Was To Be Some Time In The Spring, And With That Gabriel Had To
Be Content:
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