They went upstairs; Constance shut the door:
"Tell me, Emilie ... how are you living, in Paris?..."
"With Henri, Auntie."
"With Henri ... but why, Emilie? Why keep your brother from his work?..."
"I don't, Auntie. He doesn't want to do that sort of work. He wants to be free; and so do I."
"Free ... in what way?"
"We don't feel ourselves suited ... to Dutch life...."
"But why not?"
"I don't know: an exotic drop of blood in our veins, perhaps. Try to understand, Auntie ... you have lived abroad a long time yourself. Holland is so narrow ... and I ... I have suffered too much in Holland."
"Dear, I suffered ... away from my country; and I longed for my country when I had not seen it for years."