A few nights after Gustav Adolf’s home came home, we will marvel at the majesty alone in his room in solitude. Normally, at this time of the day, he was in the circle of his relatives, either playing with them whistling or setting himself a “diplomat”.
Outside the spacer was a step. Major listened intently as a child who is afraid to be surprised at unauthorized work. The comer was just Kristian.
“Or did you, my son,” he said. “Come see how my diplomat goes!”
“Why are you sitting here, Dad, and not as usual upstairs?” asked Kristian, sitting comfortably on the sofa corner, which at least not seemed to come up next hop.