I was feeling in imagination their
touch upon my head. Every word he spoke betrayed his passion, and yet he
went on discussing this wretched dome--about which I cared as little as
for the inkstains on his table.

I expressed my surprise that he could put up with such a room.

"But I get the sunshine," he said, blushing.

I am quite sure that he often stands at his window and builds the most
superb palaces from the red-gold of the sunset sky, and marble bridges
from the purple clouds at evening.

Big child that you are, how I love you!

But I will never, never start a home with you!

Well, surely one gardener can hardly suffice to poison the air of the
place. If he is a nuisance I shall send him packing.

The man comes from a big estate. If he is content to cultivate my
cabbage patch, it must be because, besides being very ugly, he has some
undiscovered faults. But I really cannot undertake to make minute
inquiries into the psychical qualities of Mr. Under-gardener Jensen.

His photograph was sent by a registry office, among many others. We
examined them, Jeanne, Torp, and myself, with as deep an interest as
though they had been fashion plates from Paris. To my silent amusement,
I watched Torp unconsciously sniffing at each photograph as though she
thought smells could be photographed, too.

Prudence prompted me to select this man; he is too ugly to disturb our
peace of mind. On the other hand, as I had the wisdom not to pull down
the hut in which the former proprietor lived, the two rooms there will
have to do for Mr. Jensen, so that we can keep him at a little distance.

Torp asked if he was to take meals in the kitchen.

Certainly! I have no intention of having him for my opposite neighbour
at table. But, on the whole, he had better have his meals in his hut,
then we shall not be always smelling him.

* * * * *

Perhaps we are really descended from dogs, for the sense of smell can so
powerfully influence our senses.

I would undertake in pitch darkness to recognise every man I know by the
help of my nose alone; that is, if I passed near enough to him to sniff
his atmosphere. I am almost ashamed to confess that men are the same to
me as flowers; I judge them by their smell. I remember once a young
English waiter in a restaurant who stirred all my sensibilities each
time he passed the back of my chair. Luckily Richard was there! For the
same reason I could not endure Herr