Philippina blushed. “Nothing for you,” she replied in a rough tone, and held her hand over the opening in her blouse.
“Tell me, Philippina, tell me,” begged Dorothea, who could not stand the thought of any one keeping a secret from her: “Possibly it is your dowry. Possibly you have made a savings bank out of your bosom?” She laughed lustily.
Philippina got up: “Yes, it is my money,” she confessed with reluctance, and looked at Dorothea hostilely.
“It must be a whole lot. Look out, or some one will steal it from you. You will have to sleep on your stomach.”
Daniel came down from his study, and heard Dorothea laughing. Grief was gnawing at his heart; he passed hastily by the door.
XI
One evening, as Philippina came into the hall from the street, she saw a man coming up to her in the dark; he called her by name. She thought she recognised his voice, and on looking at him more closely saw that it was her father.
She had not spoken to him for ten years. She had seen him from time to time at a distance, but she had always made it a point to be going in another direction as soon as she saw him; she avoided him, absolutely.
“What’s the news?” she asked in a friendly tone.