What a lot of us: the word had a special charm for her.
Meanwhile, Uncle Ruyvenaer was teasing his two old sisters:
"Come Rientje and Tientje.... Don't you want to play bridge?"
"What?"
"Herman wants to know if you're going to play bridge?" screamed Auntie Tine in Auntie Rine's ear.
"Bridge?"
"Yes, if you want to play bridge? She is so deaf, Herman!..."
"They won't remember me," said Constance, speaking of the old aunts. "They must have forgotten me in these twenty years. How old they have grown, Mamma!... How old we have all grown! Bertha is grey. I am going grey myself. ... And all those little nieces, all those young nephews whom I have never seen.... Do they always come, on Sundays?"
"Yes, child, every Sunday. There's a great kindness and affection among them all. I always think that so delightful."
"We are a large family. I am glad to be here, but they are still like strangers to me. How many of us are there here, Mamma?"