An hour or so after lunch, Margarete Hansen knocked at the door of Per Peterson's study.
"Ah," she said. "Good. You haven't gone back to your office. I was afraid I'd miss you."
"Do come in and sit down," he said. "Did you buy your things this morning?"
"I can't sit down now," she said. "I have to get back to the children." She stood just inside the door, looking at him with a smouldering expression.
"Did you buy the things?" he repeated, gazing at her with appreciation.
"Yes." She felt nervous, and was sure that she was showing it.
He looked at her enquiringly. "Is there anything the matter?"
She hesitated. "You said this morning something about the more the merrier."
"Yes?"
"When I asked you if you could stand being the victim of three sadistic women at the same time."
"Yes, yes," he said. "I remember very well."
"You said 'Why not? The more the merrier.'"
"Yes, I did. Why?"
She ran her tongue lightly over the under-part of her upper lip. "I've just had a telephone call from two friends of mine from Sweden."
"Yes?"
"One of them is a terrific sadist." He opened his cigarette case and took out a cigarette. His pulse began to beat faster. "Go on." He smiled suddenly and waved his arm at a chair. "But why don't you come and sit down?" Things, he thought, were growing very interesting.
"I have to get back to the children," she repeated. She wondered whether she dared go on. "What were you going to say then?"
"The other is a bit of a sadist from time to time but she's more of a nymphomaniac. And they're both terribly lovely. A red-head and a blonde."
His pulse gave a leap. He knew what she was going to say. "Go on," he repeated, in an encouraging tone of voice. His penis began to tingle.
She looked him full in the eyes. "Do you think you could stand five sadistic women at the same time? Or rather, four and a nymphomaniac? Would it still be a case of the more the merrier?"
This time it was his penis that leaped. "Yes," he said. "Definitely. Why don't you ask them both for dinner with the rest of us?"