A Strange Bewildered Look

Kobo was reading up on Kierkegaard's personal life. He did have a girlfriend.

Thought so, said Kobo.

Kierkegaard had been engaged to his girfriend, whose name was Regine. She was younger than he was, and pretty. Then Kierkegaard had decided he wasn't cut out for marriage.

Hey! said Kobo. Don't I know this story?

Kierkegaard had broken off the engagement, pretending that he had deceived Regine with another girl. He was a long time coming to terms with what he'd done.

Some philosopher, said Kobo. He only thought of himself. What about Regine? Did she marry someone else?

But the text didn't say.

It did say what Kierkegaard looked like. A friend had described him like this: His hair rose up a good six inches above his forehead into a tousled crest that gave him a strange bewildered look.

That's not how I pictured him, said Kobo. I am so disappointed.

Just then Baby Pierre and Lavender arrived, with the eyes in the hessian bag.

Hello Aunty Kobo, said Lavender. I've brought back Baby Pierre, and your eyes.

No she hasn't, said Baby Pierre. I was coming back anyway. And I've brought the eyes.

Thank you dear, said Kobo. I don't suppose Ageless is with you?

No, he stayed at the museum, said Baby Pierre. He's involved in some sort of display.

Tell me, said Kobo. Is Ageless handsome?

Lavender stifled a snort.

Not at the moment, said Baby Pierre.