Slotering was so shy, and appeared to exercise a sort of control over every one that came into the grounds. We saw the man, who had been called by the policeman, go to her, and she questioned him, apparently much to his dissatisfaction. At least he retraced his steps, and was soon outside. “I am very sorry for that,” said Tine; “perhaps it was a man selling fowls, or vegetables; I have nothing yet in the house.”
“Then send some one after him,” replied Havelaar; “you know that native ladies like to exercise power. Her husband was formerly the first man in the place, and however small an Assistant Resident may be as an individual, he is in his own district a petty king: she is not yet accustomed to dethronement. We must not grudge this small, pleasure to the poor woman; act as if you did not perceive it.”
This was not difficult for Tine; she had no desire for power.
A digression is necessary here, and I even intend to digress about digressions. It is not easy for an author to sail exactly between the two rocks of the too much or too little, and this difficulty is enhanced if one describes situations that have to remove the reader to unknown countries. There exists too nice a connexion between the places and the events for us to be able to abstain entirely from describing the former; and to avoid the two rocks, already mentioned, becomes doubly difficult for him who
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