he had been to the fat man, well, they might be a little angry at first, might squabble a bit more; and then both of them would look at him and laugh and they would take the house and everything would be all right. . . . If they did not decide a bit quicker, if they went on squabbling, their Brussels furniture would suddenly be there, in front of their noses, and they without a house to put it in. . . . It was true, Granny van Lowe had said, “Be careful about taking a house:” that was all very well when people agreed; but that’s what Papa and Mamma never did. They had come to Holland, because he had said:
“Why, I’m a Dutch boy, aren’t I? Then let’s go!”
Well, they would take the house after he had been to the fat man. There was nothing else to be done, though it was risky.
Papa came downstairs with Grandpapa, looking more cheerful: perhaps he had been talking to his father. They sat on a little longer and Papa took out his watch once or twice. . . .
Then the carriage drove up; the old coachman, who had known Papa as a small boy, drove them to the station, where they arrived twenty minutes too soon.
Quietly, without speaking, they walked up and down, waiting for the train. . . .
