The letter ought to be sent off at once, wherefore he started off himself to the railway station, and Fru Egholm was for once the first to retire. She was asleep when he returned, but woke shortly after, and was puzzled a good deal by a curious sniffling sound that seemed to come from his pillow. Then the bed shook, and all at once she realised that he was laughing!
Ah, well, those who laugh at night may come to weep by day, she thought to herself, with some irritation.
Egholm gabbled away for some time about the turbine, about his letter to the Brethren, and about Vang, the trouserless, and his wife.
His wife.... Ah, she was a devil! A cold air seemed to breathe from her--though she might well have exhaled overmuch warmth in earlier days. He remembered her mechanical smile and her soft, gentle ministrations about her husband's bedside. False, false from top to toe.
One might almost be tempted to say that there was but one thing genuine about her--her false teeth! Egholm ducked down in bed again at the thought, his lips opening and closing stickily.
The Egholms managed to drag on into December without using their stove.
Fru Egholm pointed to the trees in Andreasen's garden, showing how the leaves broke away in the frost, and slid drowning one by one down through the air, like naked yellowish bodies.
"Well, and what then?" asked her husband uncomprehendingly.
"Why, then--it's winter, and time to be getting in fuel, unless you want to perish with cold."
"Why, as for that," said Egholm, leaning over the kitchen table to get a better view, "there's one tree there that's as green as ever. Look."
"Green as ever it may be," said his wife, "seeing it's an evergreen. That's holly."
"Holly's a sacred tree," said Egholm, "and we should take it as a model." It was not meant in jest. He really endeavoured to school himself to endurance. He left one button of his coat undone, and made long speeches about the unwarrantable luxury of having a fire in the stove. When you went about wrapped up in clothes, and even lived in a house, why....
Fru Egholm sighed. She made herself and Emanuel into bundles of clothes, and hoped for the best.
At first it really seemed as if Egholm had conquered the ancient prejudice in favour of warmth. He talked about pawning his overcoat, and went about rejoicing at his excellent health. He expected to feel even better as it grew colder, he said.