They spoke of this and that, and the councilor began to
explain, as one might put it, that the old specific distinction
between the various kinds of trees had been abolished by grafting, and
that for his part he did not like this at all. Then Camilla slowly
approached wearing a brilliant glaring blue shawl. Her arms were
entirely wrapped up in the shawl, and she greeted him with a slight
inclination of the head and a faint welcome. The councilor left with
his flower-pots, Camilla stood looking over her shoulders towards the
balcony; Mogens looked at her. How had he been since the other day?
Thank you, nothing especial had been the matter with him. Done much
rowing? Why, yes, as usual, perhaps not quite as much. She turned her
head towards him, looked coldly at him, inclined her head to one side
and asked with half-closed eyes and a faint smile whether it was the
beautiful Magelone who had engrossed his time. He did not know what
she meant, but he imagined it was. Then they stood for a while and
said nothing. Camilla took a few steps towards a corner, where a
bench and a garden-chair stood. She sat down on the bench and asked
him, after she was seated, looking at the chair, to be seated; he must
be very tired after his long walk. He sat down in the chair.
Did he believe anything would come of the projected royal alliance?
Perhaps, he was completely indifferent? Of course, he had no interest
in the royal house. Naturally he hated aristocracy? There were very
few young men who did not believe that democracy was, heaven only knew
what.
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