an extent upon Van der Welcke's easily tickled nerves that he began roaring once more at Addie's indignation . . .
Truitje was prowling about the passage, knocking at all the doors, not knowing where Addie was:
"Are you up, Master Addie?"
"Yes," cried Addie. "Wait a minute."
He went to the door:
"What is it?"
"A telegram . . . from the mistress, I expect . . ."
"Here."
He took the telegram, shut the door again.
"From Mamma?" asked Van der Welcke.
"Sure to be. Yes, from Paris: 'J'arrive ce soir.' "
Van der Welcke grew serious:
"And high time too. What business had Mamma to go rushing abroad like that? . . . One'd think we were well off . . . What did you do about those bills, Addie?"
"I went to the shops and said that mevrouw was out of town and that they'd have to wait."
"I see. That's all right . . . Can you meet Mamma at the station?"
"Yes. The train's due at six . . . Then we'll have dinner afterwards, with Mamma."
"I don't know . . . I think I'd better dine at the club."
