“She was alone. She walked right into the small front room and said with a chuckle, “Pardon me for not knocking. There is such a roar from the river that I didn’t think it would do any good.” Looking around, she exclaimed, “Oh, what a delightful place! Just delightful! Where’s Johannes? I know Johannes. How is his eye doing?”
She was offered a chair and sat down.
Johannes was sent for at the mill. His eye was inflamed and black and blue.
“I’ve come of my own accord,” Camilla said as he approached. “I just felt like coming. You must continue to apply cold compresses to your eye.”
“There’s no need,” he replied. “But bless you, what brings you here? Would you like to see the mill? Thank you for coming!” He put his arm around his mother, brought her forward and said, “This is my mother.”
They went down to the mill. The old miller doffed his cap, made a deep bow and said something. Camilla couldn’t hear him, but she smiled and said at random, “Thank you, thank you.
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