Read Online Hunger by Knut Hamsun - Free Book Online

though to close the door.
    Why in the world had I gotten myself involved with this person? She took me for a beggar out of hand, and I suddenly became cold and calm. I took off my hat and made a respectful bow and, pretending I hadn’t heard her words, said with extreme politeness, “I beg your pardon, miss, for ringing so loudly, I wasn’t familiar with the bell. There’s supposed to be an ailing gentleman here who has advertised for someone to wheel him about in his carriage.”
    She turned this mendacious fancy over in her mind awhile and seemed to grow doubtful what to think of me.
    â€œNo,” she said at last, “there is no ailing gentleman here.”
    â€œReally? An elderly gentleman, a two hours’ ride every day, at forty øre an hour?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen I beg your pardon again,” I said; “maybe it was on the first floor. In any event, I just wanted to recommend a person of my acquaintance in whom I take an interest. My name is Wedel-Jarlsberg.” I bowed again and withdrew. The young lady turned flaming red; in her embarrassment she remained rooted to the spot, but followed me with an intent gaze as I descended the stairs.
    My composure had returned and my head was clear. The lady’s words to the effect that she had nothing to give me today had struck me like a cold shower. I had come to such a pass now that anybody could point at me mentally and say to herself: There goes a beggar, one of those who get their food handed to them through the front door!
    On Møller Street I stopped outside a tavern and sniffed the fresh aroma of meat roasting inside; I had already put my hand on the doorknob and was about to go in to no purpose, but I thought better of it and walked away. When I got to Stortorvet Square and looked for a spot where I could rest awhile, all the benches were taken, and I searched in vain all around the church for a quiet place where I could settle down. Of course! I said gloomily to myself, of course, of course! And I took to wandering again. I made a detour down to the drinking fountain at the corner of the Arcades and drank a mouthful of water, then went on, dragging myself forward step by step, taking time for long pauses in front of every shop window and stopping to follow every passing carriage with my eyes. I felt a white heat in my head, and my temples were pounding strangely. The water I had drunk disagreed very badly with me, and I vomited a bit here and there in the street. In this way I got as far as Christ’s Cemetery. I sat down with my elbows on my knees and my head between my hands; in this curled-up position I was comfortable and no longer felt the gnawing pain in my chest.
    A stonecutter lay on his stomach on top of a large granite slab beside me, cutting an inscription; he was wearing blue glasses and immediately reminded me of an acquaintance whom I had nearly forgotten, a man who worked in a bank and whom I had met some time ago in the Oplandske Café.
    If only I could cast off all sense of shame and turn to him! Tell him the truth straight out—that I was getting to be rather strapped and had difficulty keeping body and soul together. I could give him my shaving book. . . . I’ll be damned, my shaving book! Coupons for almost one krone! I reach nervously for this valuable treasure. When I don’t find it fast enough, I jump up, search for it in a cold sweat, and find it finally at the bottom of my breast pocket together with other papers, blank and filled with writing, worthless. I count these six coupons many times, forward and backward; I didn’t really need them very much, it could be taken as a caprice on my part, a whimsical notion that I didn’t feel like shaving anymore. I was tided over by half a krone, a white half krone in silver from the Kongsberg mint! The bank closed at six, I could be on the lookout for my man outside the Oplandske Café around seven or eight.
    I sat there