Johan: Put your scruples to rest, my dear Karsten. We agreed that
it should be so; you had to be saved, and you were my friend. I
can tell you, I was uncommonly proud of that friendship. Here was
I, drudging away like a miserable stick-in-the-mud, when you came
back from your grand tour abroad, a great swell who had been to
London and to Paris; and you chose me for your chum, although I
was four years younger than you--it is true it was because you
were courting Betty, I understand that now--but I was proud of
it! Who would not have been? Who would not willingly have
sacrificed himself for you?--especially as it only meant a
month's talk in the town, and enabled me to get away into the
wide world.
Bernick: Ah, my dear Johan, I must be candid and tell you that
the story is not so completely forgotten yet.
Johan: Isn't it? Well, what does that matter to me, once I am
back over there on my farm again?
Bernick: Then you mean to go back?
Johan: Of course.
Bernick: But not immediately, I hope?
Johan: As soon as possible. It was only to humour Lona that I
came over with her, you know.
Bernick: Really? How so?
Johan: Well, you see, Lona is no longer young, and lately she
began to be obsessed with home-sickness; but she never would
admit it.
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