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Rh nothing in the Dwarskijker. She stayed at home that day too, as it was raining hard, and she saw nobody. At half-past eight in the evening, she went to Mamma van Lowe’s in a cab, with Van der Welcke and Addie. And Constance, the moment she entered, saw that there was a certain excitement among the members of the family, all of whom were present. Even Mamma seemed uneasy about something; and she at once said to Constance:

“You were at Bertha’s on Tuesday, child. . . .”

“Yes. . . .”

“Why didn’t you ask me first, Connie?”

“Is a visit to Bertha such a very important matter, Mamma?”

“No, no,” said the old woman, deprecatingly, “not that. . .”

But the old aunts arrived:

“How are you, Marie?”

“How are you, Dorine and Christine? So nice of you to come.”

“What d’you say?” asked Auntie Rine.

“Marie says. . . it’s so nice of you to co-o-ome!” screamed Auntie Tine.

“Oh, ah! Did she say so? Yes, yes. . . . And who’s that? . . .”

“That’s Constance,” said the old lady.

“Who?”

“That’s Marie’s daughter!” screamed Auntie Tine. “Marie’s daugh-ter!”

“Whose daughter?”

“Marie’s?”