Van der Welcke. He went out with his nephew Addie; the outside world no longer made him giddy. On his walks, he recognized brother-officers; one day, he met the hussars:
"Oh, damn it all!" he swore, without knowing why.
It was as though he suddenly saw that he would never again ride, straight-backed, clear-eyed, at the head of his squadron. But it was all rot, seeing that. . . .
Still he was unable to resume his service. He lazed and loafed, as he said. In the evenings, always very early, he sank away into a downy abyss, dropped asleep, heavily. . . .
And he no longer remembered things:
"I say, Constance."
"What is it, Gerrit?"
"When I saw that girl . . . in the cemetery . . . were you there too and did you call me? . . ."
"No, Gerrit. You've been dreaming."
"Oh, did I dream that?"
"Yes."
"No, no."
"Yes, Gerrit, you dreamt it."
Another time, he said to Van der Welcke:
"I say, Van der Welcke."
"What is it, Gerrit?"
"You don't know . . . but I was carrying on
