The old aunts were sitting in a corner near the door of the conservatory:
“Rine.”
“Yes, Tine.”
“She doesn’t seem to be coming any more on Sundays.”
“No, Tine, she doesn’t come on Sundays now.”
“A good thing too!” Tine yelled into Rine’s ear.
Mamma van Lowe, smiling sadly, moved from table to table, with Dorine, asking the children if they wouldn’t like something to drink.
[1] Malay: “Come on, now then.”