'
Ho-ho-ho--Peer Troen! Wouldn't he like it! Tra-la-la-la!--I say, let's
go out and get a little fresh air."
Peer said nothing then or after about Klaus Brock, and Klaus himself was
going off home for the summer holidays. As the summer wore on the town
lay baking in the heat, reeking of drains, and the air from the stable
came up to the couple in the garret so heavy and foul that they were
sometimes nearly stifled.
"I'll tell you what," said Peer one day, "we really must spend a few
shillings more on house rent and get a decent place to live in."
And Louise agreed. For till the time came for him to join the College
in the autumn, Peer was obliged to stick to the workshops; he could not
afford a holiday just now.
One morning he was just starting with a working gang down to Stenkjaer
to repair some damage in the engine-room of a big Russian grain boat,
when Louise came and asked him to look at her throat. "It hurts so
here," she said.
Peer took a spoon and pressed down her tongue, but could not see
anything wrong. "Better go and see the doctor, and make sure," he said.
But the girl made light of it. "Oh, nonsense!" she said; "it's not worth
troubling about."
Peer was away for over a week, sleeping on board with the rest. When
he came back, he hurried home, suddenly thinking of Louise and her sore
throat. He found the job-master greasing the wheels of a carriage, while
his wife leaned out of a window scolding at him. "Your sister,"
repeated the carter, turning round his face with its great red lump of
nose--"she's gone to hospital--diphtheria hospital--she has.
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