"Yes.... Because I'm rotten."
"Because you haven't felt well the last few days?"
"Because I'm never well."
She now thought that he was exaggerating, that he was joking, that he was pessimistical, hypochondriacal; and she said:
"Why, Gerrit!..."
He understood that she did not believe him, that she never would believe him. He laughed:
"Yes," he said, "I've a gay old imagination, haven't I?"
"Yes, I think you're imagining things a bit."
"It's this confounded weather, you know."
"Yes, that makes people out of sorts. It doesn't affect children, fortunately."