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408 her by the arm to the card-table. The rubber was made up: Auntie, Karel, Cateau and Toetie. But they none of them paid attention to their cards, which fell on the table, one after the other, without the least effort of intelligence on the part of the players, as though obeying the laws of some weird and fantastic game of bridge. . . . Auntie was constantly trying to ruff with spades though clubs were trumps:

“Oh, what kassian!” said Auntie.

“Ka-rel,” said Cateau, excitedly, “as the eld-est bro-ther, you must inter-fere and stop that du-el!”

“I? Thank you: not if I know it!”

“You must, Ka-rel: You are the eld-est brother. . . . Of course, Van Na-ghel”—and she pronounced the name with a certain reverence—“is the hus-band of your eld-est sist-er; but if he, if Van”—reverentially—“Van Na-a-ghel refuses to inter-fere, then it’s your duty, Ka-rel, as the eld-est bro-ther, to stop that du-el.”

“It won’t come off!” said Toetie, good-humouredly.

“Massa, brothers-in-law don’t fight!” said Auntie Lot. “But Adolphine shouldn’t have behaved like that. . . . Very wrong of Adolphine.”

“But it’s sa-ad, all the same, very sa-ad, for Adolph-ine, all those art-icles,” whined Cateau. “They up-set her. She’s cry-ing, And it’s anything but plea-sant for Van Na-ghel, don’t you think, Un-cle?”