How the snow shone--like purple under the red flood of sunlight. After
all, their troubles seemed a little easier to bear to-day. It was as if
something frozen in her heart were beginning to thaw.
Louise was getting on well with her violin. Perhaps one day the child
might go out into the world, and win the triumphs that her mother had
dreamed of in vain.
There was a sound of hurried steps in the passage, and she started and
sat in suspense. Would he come in raging, or in despair, or had the
pains in his head come back? The door opened.
"Merle! I have it now. By all the gods, little woman, something's
happened at last!"
Merle half rose from her seat, but sank back again, gazing at his face.
"I've got it this time, Merle," he said again. "And how on earth I never
hit on it before--when it's as simple as shelling peas!"
He was stalking about the room now, with his hands in his pockets,
whistling.
"But what is it, Peer?"
"Why, you see, I was standing there chopping wood. And all the time
swarms of mowing machines--nine million of them--were going in my head,
all with the grass sticking fast to the shears and clogging them up. I
was in a cold sweat--I felt myself going straight to hell--and then,
in a flash--a flash of steel--it came to me. It means salvation for us,
Merle, salvation."
"Oh, do talk so that I can understand a little of what you're saying."
"Why, don't you see--all that's wanted is a small movable steel brush
above the shears, to flick away the grass and keep them clear.
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