Harold Dercksz sank into a chair, his face twisted with pain.
"Papa, are you ill?" cried Ina.
"No, dear, it's only a little more pain ... than usual.... It's nothing, nothing at all.... Is Dr. Roelofsz dead?"
He saw before his eyes that fatal night of pouring rain: saw himself, a little fellow of thirteen, saw that group of three carrying the body and heard his mother crying:
"Oh, my God, no, not in the river!"
The day after, Dr. Roelofsz had held an inquest on his father's body and certified death by drowning.
"Is Dr. Roelofsz dead?" he repeated. "Does Mamma know?"
"Not yet," said Daan Dercksz. "Harold, you had better tell her."
"I?" said Harold Dercksz, with a start. "I? I can't do it.... It would mean killing my mother.... And I can't kill my mother...."
And he stared before him....