He had seen her neither yesterday nor the day before. What had happened?... He had now been sitting for over an hour by Lot's bed, with Lot's hand in his: the boy had closed his eyes again; yet a pressure of that small, thin, delicate hand told his father that he was not asleep, but only resting.... Pauws let his son lie quite still, wiped the sweat from Lot's forehead with a handkerchief.... Well, he was perspiring nicely, the skin felt relaxed.... Patience now, until Lot felt inclined to talk again; patience now, to find out about Elly! Thank God, the beggar wasn't going to die, as Pauws had feared for a moment; but the flesh he'd lost! And he had never had much to spare. How thin his face had grown! How young he looked for his age, even though his fair hair was beginning to turn grey!... Pauws had always been very fond of him, because of his calm and gentle character, so very different from his mother's. He had no doubt become so gentle and calm because he wasn't strong: when those violent scenes took place at home, Lot, as a child, used to go and sit quietly in his corner until the scene had ended.... But what could have happened with Elly?
Lot opened his eyes at last, but the old man dared not yet ask after Elly. If it was anything sad, something that he couldn't imagine, then he mustn't ask Lot: it might make the poor boy go quite off his head again. So he merely wiped his son's forehead with some eau-de-Cologne which he saw standing there and asked:
"Are you better, old chap?..."
"Yes, Father ... a great deal better.... It seems so strange to me, to have you sitting here ... but I'm very glad of it.... Was I so ill that Mamma had to telegraph? I didn't know it myself.... I woke this morning and felt very weak ... but quiet.... It was a fever, you see, and I caught a bad cold into the bargain, in this beastly winter weather, here.... Bronchitis, but not at all serious, you know.... A touch of influenza as well: nothing out of the way.... I shall soon get right with a little nursing.... When I'm well, I shall go to the south, to Ottilie: she's still with her Aldo; yes, it can't be helped, they'll never get married.... And perhaps they're right.... And there you are, sitting by my bed.... Well, now that you're here, guv, you're just going to stay at the Hague until I'm better. If you've brought no luggage, you can buy a couple of shirts and a toothbrush.... No, I don't mean to let you go again. Mamma needn't see you, if you don't wish it. But, now that she's been mad enough to wire to you and frighten you out of your wits, she must put up with the worry of it, if it is a worry.... Besides, she won't stay very long herself...."
"Don't talk too much, my boy...."
"No, it doesn't tire me ... meandering on like this. Mamma won't stay long. You don't know anything: I'll tell you how things stand. Steyn has gone ... abroad; perhaps for good. Mamma has come into money from old Mr. Takma; yes, she came into a hundred thousand guilders.... And she is now going to England, with Hugh.... And she will stay there, with Hugh, I expect, as long as the hundred thousand lasts...."
"Is that it? Oh, your poor mother!"
"You needn't pity her, Father: not yet, at least. She is very, very happy at the moment. She dotes on her Hugh. I had to fall ill to make her remember that she had a Lot as well. But she was very nice to me: she nursed me, I think.... Really, she is quite happy.... Perhaps in a year or two ... when the hundred thousand is gone ... she will come back to me...."
"But what about you, old chap, what about you?" exclaimed the old man, unable to contain himself any longer.
"I?... I shall go to Nice first, to take in the sun a bit ... and then to Italy, to write...."