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150 stomach. Another stomach; and I can’t stand stomachs. . . . But good-natured, all the same, is Auntie! Look at Uncle: he’s unbuttoned his waistcoat, the rude fellow! . . . Have you noticed my waistcoat, Connie? It’s white drill, it’s very smart. . . . I say, Connie, look at Mamma: what a grand old woman, the way she walks, laughs and talks! Now that’s something like: you see at once that she’s a great lady. Look at old Mrs. Friesesteijn beside her: common, noisy, spiteful; a figure like a charwoman’s. Hideous, hideous! . . . Look at Ernst, Connie. Would you ever believe that was a brother of mine? Just like an old Jew; and what a dress-coat, what a dress-coat! Where on earth did the beggar get it cut? He spends all his money on jugs and vases! . . . Look at Gerrit, Connie. He’s pretending to be gay again, the jolly hussar, with the broad chest all over lace frogs. Poor fellow, he’s dying of melancholy! You don’t believe me? It’s true, I assure you. . . . Look at Adolphine, Connie. Just like a bird talking slander: pip, pip, pip! How Bertha’s ears must tingle! Great Heavens, those eyes of Bertha’s, always blinking! She ought to have something done to them. . . . Look at Dorine, Connie. She always looks repulsive. . . . As a matter of fact, Connie, there are only two good-looking people in the room: Mamma and yourself. . . .”

“And you, Paul. . . .”

“Your husband has a good figure too: he has an attractive back. I have an eye for nice backs. I