Lou and Oscar looked at each other questioningly. There seemed to
be nothing to do but to go, and they walked out.
"You can't do business with women," Oscar said heavily as he
clambered into the cart. "But anyhow, we've had our say, at last."
Lou scratched his head. "Talk of that kind might come too high, you
know; but she's apt to be sensible. You hadn't ought to said that
about her age, though, Oscar. I'm afraid that hurt her feelings;
and the worst thing we can do is to make her sore at us. She'd
marry him out of contrariness."
"I only meant," said Oscar, "that she is old enough to know better,
and she is. If she was going to marry, she ought to done it long
ago, and not go making a fool of herself now."
Lou looked anxious, nevertheless. "Of course," he reflected hopefully
and inconsistently, "Alexandra ain't much like other women-folks.
Maybe it won't make her sore. Maybe she'd as soon be forty as
not!"
XI
Emil came home at about half-past seven o'clock that evening. Old
Ivar met him at the windmill and took his horse, and the young
man went directly into the house.
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