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, downstairs, helped his father with the bicycle, took it for him to the little room by the kitchen, promised Papa to see to it for him in the morning.

"Am I late for dinner?" asked Van der Welcke. He was tired and hot; his clothes were sticking to him.

"Mamma has a head-ache," said Addie. "Go and change your things first: dinner can wait."

Van der Welcke dragged himself upstairs. He had bicycled so hard that day—both morning and afternoon—with his eyes fixed in front of him, his thoughts fixed in front of him, that his body was tingling with weariness, his eyes blind with that fixed staring, as if they had been full of dust and sand.

"Come and help me," he said to Addie.

And, going to the bathroom, he flung off all his clothes and took a shower-bath, while Addie brought him fresh things.

He was ready in ten minutes, doing everything in a feverish, tired hurry:

"Now we can have dinner. Isn't Mamma coming down?"

"No."

They sat down opposite each other, but Van der