“Tragically in love, with her beautiful, sombre eyes. Always, first with her husband and then with somebody else. I am never in love. Not even any longer with my husband. He is ... with me. But I have not an erotic temperament. There’s a great deal of love-making in India, isn’t there, doctor?... Well, we’ve ruled out dances, excursions into the mountains and love-making. What then, in Heaven’s name, what then?”
“I know of something,” said Mrs. Doorn de Bruijn; and a sudden anxiety came over her placid melancholy.
She gave a side-glance at Mrs. Rantzow; the German woman grasped her meaning.
“What is it?” asked the others, eagerly.
“Table-turning,” whispered the two ladies.
There was a general laugh.
“Oh dear!” sighed Eva, disappointed. “A trick, a joke, an evening’s amusement. No, I want something that will fill my life for at least a month.”
“Table-turning,” repeated Mrs. Rantzow.
“Listen to me,” said Mrs. Doorn de Bruijn. “The other day, for a joke, we tried making a gipsy-table turn. We all promised not to cheat. The table ... moved, spelt out words, tapping them out by the alphabet.”
“But was there no cheating?” asked the doctor, Eldersma and Van Helderen.