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 The harper, seeing where she was leading him, stopped on the doorstep.

“Where to? I hope you do not intend to lodge me here in this close box? Is this Hlohov? There, beyond the garden, that majestic building rising to the heavens, that is Hlohov—not this miserable hut. There stands the hero with whom I want to make friends; him I wish to ask for hospitality. This is only a dwarf, in whose crippled arms I could not rest. I should choke in his embrace.”

The stewardess almost signed herself with the cross.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, trembling from head to foot. “Do you not know that everything in the old Castle is ready to tumble, that no one has slept there for ages? It is impossible to start a fire there on account of smoking chimneys; the walls are sinking, the windows are broken, the furniture is old and shaky.”

“In the short time that I shall stay here the Castle will not tumble down,” impatiently