[Hastily closing the sketch book.] There then! [Rises.] Tomorrow you sit still—You hear!
Cob.
[Stretching himself.] All stiff! [Dances, snapping his fingers, his knees wabbling.] Ta de da da—da-da-da.
Daan.
[At the window.] Psst! Nobody home.
Jelle.
[Playing at window outside.] If you please.
Daan.
Nobody home.
Jelle.