Adeline had rung for the nurse, who took the children away.
"He's mad?" Gerrit repeated, passing his hand over his forehead.
"He's mad," Dorine repeated. "He's mad. He's mad."
"Oh, well," said Gerrit, in a vague, conciliatory tone, "Ernst is always queer!"
"But now he's mad, I tell you!" Dorine screamed, in a shrill voice. "If you don't believe me, go and see him. Don't you see, something's got to be done! I, I don't know what. I'm a woman, do you hear, and I'm utterly unnerved myself. Why didn't Mamma send for you at once? Why me? Why me? And Karel . . . Karel is a nincompoop. Karel at once said that he had a cold, that he couldn't go out. Karel? Karel's a nincompoop. . . . A cold, indeed! A cold, when your brother's gone mad all of a sudden! . . ."
"But, when you say mad . . . is he really mad?" asked Gerrit, doubtfully.
"Well, go and see him for yourself," said Dorine, fixing her irritated gaze full on Gerrit. "You go and see him for yourself; and, when you've seen him as I've seen him . . . then you won't ask me if he's mad. . . ."
"All right," said Gerrit. "I'll go at once. I must look in at barracks first and then . . ."
