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Rh “Oh, so-so! Of course, she’s Ka-rel’s sis-ter, but I think her not so ve-ry distin-guished.”

“Oh, well, I think her rather smart!” growled Karel, a little crossly.

“Oh, Ka-rel! . . . Well, smart, if you like, but not what I call good ta-aste.”

“Rather foreign, I suppose?” asked Anna IJkstra.

“Ye-es. And so many rings: that’s what I don’t like. And her hair: all curled and waved, puffed right out, you know. So ridic-ulous. . . because she’s ve-ry grey, you know. . . .”

“Oh, really!”

“Yes. What terrible wea-ther, An-na. . . . We ought to be go-ing on, Ka-rel.”

“Where?” growled Karel.

“To the Van Ra-vens.”

“Oh, no!” muttered Karel. “It’s raining so. . . . And I have to get out all the time and ring the bell.”

“But haven’t you a footman?” asked Anna, pretending not to know.

“I say, what next!” muttered Karel. “A footman, indeed!”

“But, Ka-rel, in that case, let us just go on to Constance’.”

“Oh, are you going to Mrs. van der Welcke’s?”

“Yes, we must re-ally pay her a vis-it, to-day. . . .”

“Well, come along then!” growled Karel, who was irritable without knowing why.