Page:Small Souls (1919).djvu/440

432 “Who?”

“Constance!”

“Constance?”

“Yes, Constance!”

“Constance?”

“Yes, Constance!”

“The bad one!” screamed Auntie Rine.

“Yes, Rine, the bad one, Rine. She’s a wicked woman, Rine, a wicked woman! She has a lover! . . .”

“A lover?”

“Yes, Rine. Can you understand her being here? Can you understand that she’s not ashamed? Can you understand her showing herself? Yes, Rine, she’s a wicked woman, she’s. . . she’s. . .”

“What is she, Tine?”

“She’s. . . she’s a trollop, Rine!” Auntie Tine yelled, shrilly. “A common trollop! A trollop!”

“Christine!” cried Mrs. van Lowe. “Christine! Dorine!”

And she stood up and tottered, with outstretched arms, towards the two old sisters. But there was a loud scream and a laugh that cut into everybody like a knife: Constance had fainted in Paul’s arms. . ..

The boy, Addie, looked round with a haughty glance. He had heard everything, as had Van der Welcke, who stood listening apprehensively at the door of the boudoir. The son saw his father’s deathly-pale face staring like a mask. He saw the horror of his grandmother and of all his uncles and aunts. He now saw his mother prostrate in a chair,