“Terrible.”
Adolphine was thin, angular, envious, badly-dressed. Beside the prosperous, opulent respectability of Karel and Cateau, sleek with good living, heavy with comfort, radiating money and ease—Karel in his thick frieze great-coat, Cateau in a rich silk dress and a rich fur-trimmed jacket, with a rich toque crowning her round, pink-and-white, full-moon face—Adolphine looked shabby, peevish and pretentious. The stuff of her clothes could not compare with Cateau’s, which were eloquent of money, good, substantial money; and yet Adolphine had certain pretentions to fashion and elegance. A thin, straggling boa wound its length around her neck. Her fringe, out of curl because of the wet, hung in rats’-tails from under a shabby little hat, draped in a limp veil. It was as though Adolphine felt this, for she said, enviously:
“I didn’t trouble to put on anything decent, in this beastly rain.”
Cateau looked meaningly at the carriage outside:
“So you’re going to Con-stance’ al-so? . . .”
“Yes. But when will Van der Welcke be here? Saetzema is waiting to pay his visit until Van der Welcke comes. . . .”
“You see?” said Karel to Cateau.
“Oh?” asked Cateau, drawling her words more than ever. “Is Saet-zema wait-ing until Van der Wel-cke comes? . . . Oh, I told Karel to come with me because, per-haps, it wouldn’t look friend-ly!
