ugly, and that is so beautiful it cannot be described. They agree so
absolutely about all this, that it seems as if they had some sort of a
table or something like that by which they figured things out, for
they always get the same result, no matter what it may be. How alike
they are to each other, these people! Every one of them knows the same
things and talks about the same things, and all of them have the same
words and the same opinions."

"You don't mean to say," Camilla protested, "that Carlsen and Ronholt
have the same opinions."

"Yes, they are the finest of all, they belong to different parties!
Their fundamental principles are as different as night and day. No,
they are not. They are in such agreement that it is a perfect joy.
Perhaps there may he some little point about which they don't agree;
perhaps, it is merely a misunderstanding. But heaven help me, if it
isn't pure comedy to listen to them. It is as if they had prearranged
to do everything possible not to agree. They begin by talking in a
loud voice, and immediately talk themselves into a passion. Then one
of them in his passion says something which he doesn't mean, and then
the other one says the direct opposite which he doesn't mean either,
and then the one attacks that which the other doesn't mean, and the
other that which the first one didn't mean, and the game is on."

"But what have they done to you?"

"They annoy me, these fellows. If you look into their faces it is just
as if you had it under seal that nothing especial is ever going to
happen in the world in the future." Camilla laid down her sewing, went
over and took hold of the corners of his coat collar and looked