blewing his money. . . . I was always fond of him. The moment he got to Paris, he understood that he must do something, show what he was made of, strike out a line for himself; and it came to him with a flash: he would be a clown! But a very, very fine clown, something quite new, not one of your vulgar clowns! He makes heaps of money, I don't know how much. . . . And that's how we live, Auntie: free and independent of everything and everybody. . . . Auntie, you look shocked. But you mustn't blame us! Here, I was unhappy, so was he; there, we are happy, happy together. I am fond of him and he of me. I don't know what it is, but we can't live without each other. In Paris, the people think that we are lovers; they won't believe that we are brother and sister. And there you are: we're happy and we don't care what horrible things they say about us in Holland. Do you think I've come back to Holland for any other reason than to see Grandmother, you, Mamma, Otto? I longed to see you; I have no feeling for the others. I am sorry for Uncle Ernst. But I want to lead a free life, independent of Holland, of the family . . . and I had to make it independent of my husband, whom I married in mistake . . . and who beat me and ill-treated me! We want to live, Auntie, and not merely exist!"
But Constance did not know what to say and shut her eyes as if she had been struck in the face.
