Chapter 1
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Chapter 1
Harald Kaas was sixty.
He had given up his free, uncriticised bachelor life； his yacht
was no longer seen off the coast in summer； his tours to England
and the south had ceased； nay, he was rarely to be found even at
his club in Christiania. His gigantic figure was never seen in the
doorways； he was failing.
Bandy-legged he had always been, but this defect had increased；
his herculean back was rounded, and he stooped a little. His
forehead, always of the broadest--no one else‘s hat would fit him-
-was now one of the highest, that is to say, he had lost all his
hair, except a ragged lock over each ear and a thin fringe behind.
He was beginning also to lose his teeth, which were strong though
small, and blackened by tobacco； and now, instead of "deuce take
it" he said "deush take it."
He had always held his hands half closed as though grasping
something； now they had stiffened so that he could never open them
fully. The little finger of

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