“The household saw it first, as the big lad began clattering about and hopping up and down stairs, collecting papers and other things he needed for all the errands he had to run, he said, before the Festival. Those who had seen him arrive the day before, or had talked to him in the yard, swore that his face was all right then. It wasn’t the work of some narrow-minded husband, because he’d slept in the house all last night. One or two merchants had come for their letters, and there had been a cal...l from this fat French lord, but the Widow would have screamed to the magistrates if the fat lord had done it, or would be screaming to Claes, which she wasn’t, if Claes himself had upset her.Asked how it happened, Claes told a different story every time. Some of them were truly marvellous. None of them could be believed for a minute. He was a real joker, was Claes.He himself had thought of staying in, but there was too much to do, and Felix hadn’t come back, which meant he was still in the tavern.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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