But possibly you do not know me either.
You must not think that I am any longer the soft cheese you squeezed the water away from when I sat watching you dance.

I have laid on many shelves to dry since that time.

Neither am I like those long-haired dogs who drop their ears at the least provocation and take flight from people, as in former days.

I can stand fire now.
Your letter was very playful, but it jested where it should not have jested at all, for you understood me very well, and you could see that I did not ask in sport, but because of late I can think of nothing else than the subject I questioned you about.

I was waiting in deep anxiety, and there came to me only foolery and laughter.
Farewell, Marit Heidegards, I shall not look at you too much, as I did at that dance.