"
And they flew apart like two thoughtless little
birds ("sanguine," as Strand would have called
them), each to ponder on some formidable plot
for the reconciliation of the estranged lovers.
V.
During the week that ensued, the multifarious
sub-currents of Strand's passion seemed
slowly to gather themselves into one clearly defined
stream, and, after much scientific speculation,
he came to the conclusion that he loved
Augusta. In a moment of extreme discouragement,
he made a clean breast of it to Arnfinn,
at the same time informing him that he had
packed his knapsack, and would start on his
wanderings again the next morning. All his
friend's entreaties were in vain; he would and
must go. Strand was an exasperatingly head-
strong fellow, and persuasions never prevailed
with him. He had confirmed himself in the belief
that he was very unattractive to women, and
that Augusta, of all women, for some reason
which was not quite clear to him, hated and
abhorred him. Inexperienced as he was, he could
see no reason why she should avoid him, if she
did not hate him. They sat talking until mid-
night, each entangling himself in those passionate
paradoxes and contradictions peculiar to
passionate and impulsive youth. Strand paced
the floor with large steps, pouring out his long
pent-up emotion in violent tirades of self-
accusation and regret; while Arnfinn sat on the bed,
trying to soothe his excitement by assuring him
that he was not such a monster as, for the moment,
he had believed himself to be, but only
succeeding, in spite of all his efforts, in pouring
oil on the flames.
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