"And how much would you say it was?" asked Aunt Stefanie.
"Oh, Aunt," said Ina, with a well-bred glance of her weary eyes, "I never speak or think about money and I really don't know how rich Uncle Daan is ... but still I believe he is worth seven hundred thousand guilders. What makes them come to Holland so suddenly, in the winter? Business, Papa said; and he ought to know. But, as you know, Papa never says much and never talks about business or money. But I've been wondering to myself, could Uncle Daan have lost all his money? And mark my words: if so, Papa will have him on his hands."
For Uncle Daan and Aunt Floor, who were unpresentably Indian, had children of their own; there were no expectations therefore from that quarter; and Ina hated them with a profound hatred and, jealous of their wealth, spoke as much ill of them as she dared.
"Should you say so?" asked Aunt Stefanie.
"They've always been in business together," said Ina, "so, if Uncle Daan has lost his money, Papa is sure to have him on his hands."
"But, if he's worth seven hundred thousand guilders?" asked Anton Dercksz.
"Yes, in that case," said Ina, covetously. "But perhaps he hasn't seven hundred thousand. I don't know. I never talk about money; and what other people have is le moindre de mes soucis."
Lily came down, looking the sweetest of little fair-haired women in her fur boa; and the four of them went to the cab, while Jansje created a fresh draught by opening the door too wide.
And Ina insisted that Uncle Anton should sit in the front seat, beside Aunt Stefanie, and she and Lily with their backs to the horse, while Uncle Anton, with pretended gallantry, tried to resign the place of honour to her, though he was glad that she did not accept it. All that family was only a tie, which bound you without doing you the least good. There was that old bird of a Stefanie, who had dragged him from his reading, his warm room, his pipe, his Suetonius and his pleasant reverie, first to look at a brat to whom he wasn't going to leave a cent and next to call at an hotel on a brother who chose to come from India to Holland in December. All such unnecessary things; and what thousands of them you did in your life! There were times when you simply couldn't be your own master.... He indemnified himself by pressing his knees against Lily's and feeling the warmth of her fresh young body. His eyes grew misty.
The cab stopped at the big pension where Uncle Daan was accustomed to stay when he came home from India. They were at once shown in to Aunt Floor, who had seen them through the window; a baboe was standing at the door of the room.