"Yes, I know," said Brauws. "But what do you do? You're in a government-office, I suppose?"
"No, Lord no, old fellow! Nothing, I just do nothing. I cycle."
They both laughed. Brauws looked at his old college-friend, almost paternally, with a quiet smile.
"The beggar hasn't changed an atom," he said. "Yes, now that I look at you again, I see something here and there. But you've remained Welckje, for all that . . ."
"But not Mad Hans," sighed Van der Welcke.
"Vreeswijck has become a great swell," said Brauws. "And the others?"
"Greater swells still."
"Not you?"
"No, not I. Do you cycle?"
"Sometimes."
"Have you a motor-car?"
"No."
"That's a pity. I should like to have a motor. But I can't afford one of those sewing-machines."
Brauws roared with laughter:
"Why don't you start saving up for one?"
"No, old chap, no . . ."
"I say, do you know what's a funny thing? While you were living in Brussels, I too was living just outside Brussels."
"Impossible!"
"Yes, I was."
