movements, were wild with delight, thought it great fun of Papa. . . .
He had finished and was ready for his walk with Constance.
"Papa, may we come too? Do let us come too, Papa!"
"No," he said, bluntly. "No, don't be such limpets. You're just like a pack of octopuses, winding one in their suckers. No, Father wants to go out with his sister alone, for once. . . ."
And he went out alone with Constance, after she had managed to conceal the disorder of her hair under her hat and veil.
Outside, she said to him:
"Gerrit, how bright it all is in your house, how sunny, how happy!"
"Yes," he said.
"You have every reason to be thankful, Gerrit."
"Yes."
"Do you feel better now, in the air?"
"Yes . . . especially after your nice little egg."
"No, don't be silly, Gerrit. You don't look half as well as usual."
"And I feel simply rotten . . . if you really want to know."
"Still?"
"Yes . . . but it'll pass off. . . . I . . . I always sleep very well; and just because of that a bad night upsets me. . . ."
