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Rh in his blue serge jacket, with something about his gestures and movements that denoted a certain manliness and self-possession, uncommon in so young a boy. He tried to be polite, but could not conceal a certain mistrust of this unknown uncle and aunt. His small mouth was firmly closed; his eyes stared fixedly, dark-blue, serious and cold.

Constance made her sister-in-law and brother sit down:

“Forgive all this muddle,” she said with a laugh. “I was taking advantage of the rainy day to arrange my trunks a bit.”

Cateau gave a sharp glance round: there were dresses hanging over the chairs and from the pegs; a couple of hats lay on a table.

“Oh, Con-stance!” said Cateau; and she felt a little impertinent at saying, “Constance,” just like that—she had married Karel after Constance’ marriage to De Staffelaer and this was only the second time that she had seen her sister-in-law—and had it on her lips to say, “Mevrouw,” instead. “Oh, Con-stance, what a lot of clothes you have!”

“Do you think so? Things get so spoilt in one’s trunks.”

“I haven’t as many dress-es as that, have I, Karel? But what I have is re-ally good. But yours are good, too, Con-stance. I like re-ally good clothes. . . . Only, such a lot of lace would fid-get me. . . . Bertha dresses well, too. . . . But Adolph-ine. . . . Oh, what a sight she al-ways looks!”