"Praise the Lord!" exclaimed Jantje.
"And all those millions are ours now, seeing we're the nearest heirs since your mother and father died."
"Poor Uncle Pit—kind old Uncle Pit," sighed Jantje, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, rising to her feet, she went on: "If that's all, husband, then I'll go and finish the washing."
"Washing, now? No, you don't, Jantje. Off with you at once and put on the finest you've got: your green dress and the coral brooch."
"But the things will be spoiled in the water, husband."
"Never mind; let them. Hurry up and get dressed now."
Jantje went off to dress, but not before she had slipped out into the wash-house, wrung out the wet things and hung them up to dry.
Nils Petter put on his best blue suit, a starched shirt with collar and cuffs, a black tie and stiff hat.
Then Jantje appeared, wearing her green dress, her face all flushed and aglow with hurrying.
The pair sat for a moment looking at one another.