"You see, they grow for him as they don't grow for any one else. Much better I am sure," he added a little bitterly, "than they will ever grow for Frederik. I don't think flowers love Frederik."
"What queer ideas you have!" she laughed, embarrassed at his quiet statement of facts that seemed to her absurd. "Are you Mr. Grimm's son?"
"No, ma'am. He is not married. I don't think he has any sons at all. I'm Anne Marie's son."
"Anne Marie? Anne Marie—what?"
"Just Anne Marie. I'm Willem, you know."
"William?"
"No, ma'am. Willem."
"Willem Grimm?"
"No, ma'am. Anne Marie's Willem. I—Oh, Mr. Hartmann!" he broke off, catching sight of the big young man who drew near, "Mynheer Peter said you'd be on this train. Now I can have some one to walk back with."