Johannes himself felt thankful and happy beyond words—like a child under his Father's blessing, in the heart of his home.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!!! went the alarm-clock on the black mantel-shelf above the Dutch oven in Marjon's small kitchen. The iron bed shuddered and creaked; and Marjon sprang up, with the sleepy, mechanical haste of one accustomed to begin work at dawn, to stop the alarm.
There stood the unpainted table, the oil-lamp, and the unwashed coffee-set, and Marjon began to put things in order.
And out from the stifling, dark alcove came, one by one, the seven children of Van Tijn—to wash themselves at the kitchen pump and to dry themselves with one and the same old hand-towel.
[1] Bach = Fountain.
XXIV
Already they had been twice to the hospital, on visitors' days—Wednesday and Saturday—but they had not been permitted to see Markus.
He still lay unconscious, and the doctor did not yet know whether an operation would be necessary.