said I.

"Am I, really; in what way?"

Well, in the first place, simply, she had a habit of standing outside a
stable door, evening after evening, without any object whatever, just
for a whim's sake....

Oh, well, she might have her reason for doing so; besides, she liked
staying up late at night; it was a thing she had always had a great
fancy for. Did I care about going to bed before twelve?

I? If there was anything in the world I hated it was to go to bed
before twelve o'clock at night.

Ah, there, you see! She, too, was just the same; she took this little
tour in the evenings when she had nothing to lose by doing so. She
lived up in St. Olav's Place.

"Ylajali," I cried.

"I beg pardon?"

"I only said 'Ylajali' ... it's all right. Continue...."

She lived up in St. Olav's Place, lonely enough, together with her
mother, to whom one couldn't talk because she was so deaf. Was there
anything odd in her liking to get out for a little?

"No, not at all," I replied.

"No? well, what then?"

I could hear by her voice that she was smiling.

Hadn't she a sister?

Yes; an older sister. But, by-the-way, how did I know that? She had
gone to Hamburg.

"Lately?"

"Yes; five weeks ago." From where did I learn that she had a sister?

I didn't learn it at all; I only asked.

We kept silence. A man passes us, with a pair of shoes under his arm;
otherwise, the street is empty as far as we can see. Over at the Tivoli
a long row of coloured lamps are burning. It no longer snows; the sky
is clear.

"Gracious! don't you freeze without an overcoat?" inquires the lady,
suddenly looking at me.

Should I tell her why I had no overcoat; make my sorry condition known
at once, and frighten her away? As well first as last. Still, it was
delightful to walk here at her side and keep her in ignorance yet a
while longer. So I lied. I answered:

"No, not at all"; and, in order to change the subject, I asked, "Have
you seen the menagerie in the Tivoli?"

"No," she answered; "is there really anything to see?"

Suppose she were to take it into her head to wish to go there? Into
that blaze of light, with the crowd of people. Why, she would be filled
with shame; I would drive her out again, with my shabby clothes, and
lean face; perhaps she might even notice that I had no waistcoat on....

"Ah, no; there is sure to be nothing worth seeing!"

And a lot of happy ideas occurred to me, of which I at once made use; a
few spar