“Freule, I want to make friends.”
She did not catch what Marianne answered, but she heard the little bells of Marianne’s laughter and saw her put out her hand to Brauws. It was a reconciliation; and yet she felt that the hostility continued to exist, irreconcilably, like a hostility that was too deep-seated, going down to the fundamental antagonism of caste, even though this was innate in her and cultivated in him....
“And why,” she thought, “do not I feel that hostility?...”
Chapter XVIII
There was a big official dinner at Van Naghel’s; and the guests were expected in three-quarters of an hour.
“Mamma,” whined Huigje to Frances, as she was dressing, “what’s happening?”
“There are people coming,” said Frances, without looking up.
“What sort of people, Mamma?”
“Oh, there’s a dinner-party, dear!” said Frances, irritably.