He was handsome.
Oyvind looked more and more intently, finally scanned himself also; he had had new trousers for Christmas, which he had taken much delight in, but now he saw that they were only gray wadmal; his jacket was of the same material, but old and dark; his vest, of checked homespun, was also old, and had two bright buttons and a black one.

He glanced around him and it seemed to him that very few were so poorly clad as he.

Marit wore a black, close-fitting dress of a fine material, a silver brooch in her neckerchief and had a folded silk handkerchief in her hand.

On the back of her head was perched a little black silk cap, which was tied under the chin with a broad, striped silk ribbon.

She was fair and had rosy cheeks, and she was laughing; the man was talking to her and was laughing too.