The three boys nodded as they passed:
"Bejour!"
But Addie did not nod back.
Scheveningen was overcrowded, with its Sunday visitors; but the Hijdrechts were quite amusing and Frans was always pleasant.
It was late, close upon six, when he decided to go home.
"Well, good-bye, old man," said Frans.
Addie pressed Frans' hand, wanted to thank him for the walk, but was too proud, because of that pity, and could not:
"I'll come and fetch my bicycle to-morrow," was all he said, dully.
And he went home slowly, alone. He felt as though he could not go home; as though he would have liked to walk somewhere else, anything to escape going home. He felt as though, suddenly, he had to drag with him a heavy sorrow, too heavy for his years, and as though it lay on his chest, on his throat, on his lungs. But he reached home at last, about half-past six.
"How late you are, Addie," said Constance, a little annoyed. "We've been waiting for you for the last half hour. Have you been with the three boys?"