And the cook, acting on the suggestion, flung down a tray of litchis and mangosteens and, at once recovering, stooped and picked up the scattered fruits from the floor, imploring to be forgiven and shaking her head and clicking her tongue.
“Come, we’d better go!” said Eva to Frans. “Else she’ll be breaking my eggs presently. “Out of this, cook, outside!”
“Out of this, outside!” echoed the latta cook. “Oh, mem sahib, beg pardon, mem sahib, oh, enough, enough, mem sahib!”
“Come and sit down for a little,” said Eva to Van Helderen.
He went with her:
“You’re so cheerful,” he said.
“Aren’t you?”
“No, I’ve been feeling sad, lately.”
“I too. I told you so yesterday. It’s something in the Labuwangi air. There’s no telling what this table-turning has in store for us.”
They sat down in the back verandah. He sighed.