kissing her father tenderly on his forehead at the same time that she saw Ove diving in under the hood of the truck in the yard.
Her father said nothing, just stood up with a quiet snort and took the newspaper from the kitchen counter.
Halfway to his armchair in the living room he stopped himself, however, and stood there slightly unresolved, leaning on his stick.
“Does he fish?” he finally grunted without looking at her. “I don’t think so,” Sonja answered.
Her father nodded gruffly. Stood silent for a long while. “I see. He’ll have to learn, then,” he grumbled at long last,
before putting his pipe in his mouth and disappearing into the living room. Sonja had never heard him give anyone a higher compliment.
A MAN CALLED OVE AND A CAT ANNOYANCE IN A SNOWDRIFT
“Is it dead?” Parvaneh asks in terror as she rushes forward as quickly as her pregnant belly will allow and stands there staring down into the hole.
“I’m not a vet,” Ove replies—not in an unfriendly way.
Just as a point of information. He doesn’t understand where this woman keeps appearing from all the time.
Can’t a man calmly and quietly stand over a cat-shaped hole in a snowdrift in his own garden anymore?
“You have to get him out!” she cries, hitting him on the shoulder with her glove.
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