Then she shivered and began to tremble so violently that she dropped into Addie's chair. She had recognized Guy's hand.
There were three letters. One was addressed to herself and her husband: to "Uncle Henri and Aunt Constance...." The second: to "Addie...." The third: to "Mamma...."
She sat distraught, staring at the three letters vacantly, without putting out her hand. A cloud of white squares seemed to whirl about her: it was as if the envelopes were flying round in a circle before her eyes. And she felt suddenly faint.
"What is it? What does it mean?" she asked herself, aloud.
She looked at Guy's work-table: the books were there, neatly arranged on the big atlases. She got up and trembled so violently that she felt herself sinking away, into an abyss. She rang the bell. The door was open. She heard the maid on the stairs:
"Truitje!"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Truitje, I'm here ... in Mr. Addie's study."
"What is it, ma'am?"
"Call your master ... at once."