Mathilde.
Keep your temper! Kaps!——
Bos.
Go to hell! [Sweetly.] Yes, Mevrouw. Tomorrow. My wife? No, she can’t come to the telephone herself, she doesn’t know how. [Irritably.] Where is the rag? Hurry up! [Reaches out hand for paper. Mathilde hands it to him.] My wife has written the circular for the tower bell. Are you listening? [Reads.] “Date, postmark, MM.” What did you say? You would rather have L. S.? Yes, yes, quite right. Do you hear? [Reads.] “You are no doubt acquainted with the new church.”—She says, “No,” the stupid! I am reading, Mevrouw, again. “You are no doubt acquainted with the new church. The church has, as you know, a high tower; that high tower points upward, and that is good, that is fortunate, and truly necessary for many children of our generation”——
Mathilde.
Read more distinctly.
Bos.
[To Mathilde.] Shut your mouth. Pardon, I was speaking to my bookkeeper. [In telephone.] Yes—yes—ha, ha, ha—[Reads again from paper.] “But that tower could do something else that also is good. Yes, and very useful. It can mark the time for us children of the times. That it does not do. It stands there since 1882 and has never answered to the question, ‘What time is it?’ That it should do. It was indeed built for it, there are four places visible for faces; for years in all sorts of ways”—Did you say anything? No?—“for years the wish has been expressed by the surrounding inhabitants that they might have a clock—About three hundred guilders are needed. Who will help? The Committee, Mevrouw”—What did you say? Yes, you know the names, of course. Yes, very nicely worded? Yes—Yes—All the ladies of the Committee naturally sign for the same amount, a hundred guilders each? Yes—Yes—Very well—My wife will be at home, Mevrouw. [Rings off angrily.] Damned nonsense!—a hundred guilders gone to the devil! What is it to you if there’s a clock on the damn thing or not?
Mathilde.
[Turns away.] I’ll let you fry in your own fat.