"Have sympathy with the poor maniac. We will pray for him."
After that, the service proceeded without further disturbance.
XVI
In a dreary district of the city, at the end of a long, lonely street, stands a long, gloomy building. The windows—all of the same form—are of ground glass, and the house itself is lengthened by a high wall. What lies behind this wall the neighbors do not know; but sometimes strange noises are borne over it—loud singing, yelling, dismal laughter, and monotonous mutterings.
On the steps of this house, silent, and with earnest faces, stood Johannes and Marjon. The latter had on a simple, dark gown, and she carried Keesje on her arm.
The door was opened by a porter wearing a uniform-cap. The man gave them, especially the monkey, a critical, hesitating look.
"That will not do," said he, drily. "You must leave your little ones at home when you come here to make visits."
"Come," said Marjon, without a smile at his jest, "ask the superintendent. My brother is so fond of him, and I do not dare leave him at home."
They had to wait awhile in the vestibule. At first they said not a word, and Keesje was very still.