"Well, Greatgranny"—as the children called the old lady—"Greatgranny, old as she is, is a very distinguished woman!" said Ina.
"What tons of old people we have in the family!" said Gus, irreverently.
Ina repressed him: no jokes about the old lady; for that matter, they all of them stood in awe of her, because she was so very old and remained so majestic.
"Aunt Ottilie has turned sixty, hasn't she?" Ina asked, suddenly, hypnotized by the number sixty, which loomed fatefully large before her eyes.
And the D'Herbourgs now ceased talking of money, but discussed the family instead. With the exception of Grandmamma and Papa—Greatgranny and Grandpapa to the boys—they pulled all the others to pieces and Gus mimicked them all: in addition to Uncle Anton, Aunt Stefanie and Aunt Floor, he mimicked Uncle Daan, mimicked the son who held a legal office out there, mimicked "Shaan," the resident's wife at Cheribon. He had seen them all in Holland, when they came home for anything from two to twelve months on leave; and they always provided food for discussion and jest in the D'Herbourg mansion. But Ina did not laugh any more and stood up, while her curiosity burnt her to the point of causing her physical pain.
Harold Dercksz was sitting upstairs at his big writing-table. A lamp with a green shade made him appear still yellower; and the wrinkles were sharply furrowed in the old man's worn face. He sat huddled in his chair, screening his eyes with his hand. In front of him lay great sheets of figures, which he had to examine, as Daan had asked him to. He stared before him. Sixty years ago he had seen the Thing. It was slowly passing, but in passing it came back again to him so closely, so very closely. The sight of it had given his child-brain and child-nerves a shock for all his life; and that he had grown old quietly, very old, older than he need have, was due to his self-restraint.... The thing of the past, the terrible Thing, was a ghost and looked at him with eyes while it came nearer, dragging its veil of mist over rustling leaves, over a path lined with sombre trees from which the leaves fell everlastingly.... The Thing was a ghost and came nearer and nearer in passing, before it would vanish entirely in the past; but never had a single creature appeared from behind the trees to stretch out a forbidding hand and hold back the ghastly Thing that went trailing by.... Was a shadow loitering behind the trees, was some one really appearing, did he really see a hand motioning the thing, the ghastly Thing, to stop in its passage through the rustling leaves?... Oh, if it would only pass!... How slowly, how slowly it passed!... For sixty long years it had been passing, passing.... And the old man and the old woman, both in their respective houses or sitting together at the windows, were waiting until it should have passed.... But it would not pass, so long as they were still alive.... Harold Dercksz felt pity for the old man, for the old woman.... Oh, if it would but pass!... How long the years lasted!... How old they had grown!... Why must they grow so old?... Was that their punishment, their punishment, the punishment of both of them? For he now knew what part his mother had played in the crime, the terrible crime. Daan had told him; Ma-Boeten had told her son; the mantri had told Daan. There were so many who knew it! And the old people believed that nobody ... that nobody knew it except ... except old Dr. Roelofsz!... Oh, so many knew it, knew the Thing that was buried and kept on raising its spectral form, the secret that was always rising up again in its clammy mist.... Oh, that he must needs grow so old, so old that Daan now knew it too! If only Daan held his tongue and did not tell Floor! Would he hold his tongue? Would the mantri go on holding his tongue? Money must be paid, at least until the old, the poor old people were dead ... and until the Thing was past for them and with them....
A gentle tap; and the door opened: he saw his daughter on the threshold.
"Father dearest," she said, winningly.
"What is it, dear?"
Ina came nearer.