“What did they say, Mr. Torp? Come on! You must tell me now!”

The stonecutter looked about for some imaginary spittoon and then spat with extraordinary clumsiness upon the face of the big unlettered headstone in front of him. Wolf watched the white spittle slowly trickling down the yellowish surface, and he thought: “What things there are in the world that have a definite place in Time and Space! There’s Mr. Torp’s ‘gob,’ as the Ramsgard boys would say⁠ ⁠… and there’s that big round tear from Gerda’s eyes that I saw this morning on the back of my hand as we quarrelled about the cheque⁠ ⁠… and then there’s that leaf on the butcher’s cart! Ailinon! Ailinon! What things there are in the world!”