“But,” cried van Nerekool passionately, “what does she intend to do—what kind of plans has she formed?”
“She simply intends henceforth to live forgotten.”
“Perhaps to mar—!” cried he.
“My dear sir,” hastily interrupted Mrs. Steenvlak, “do not pronounce that word, I forbid you to do so. In your mouth such a word conveys a foul calumny. She has refused your hand—she will never marry another.”
“But what then does she intend to do?”
“I have told you,” replied Mrs. Steenvlak, “she intends to live in perfect solitude and oblivion; and thus she wishes quietly to await death, which, she hopes, will soon release her from all her troubles.”
“She is ill then?” cried he in dismay.
“No, she is not ill,” replied Mrs. Steenvlak; “but such a trial as she has gone through is not at all unlikely to impair a young girl’s health; and may very probably shorten her life.”
“Madam,” cried van Nerekool, “your words are torture!”
“I am telling you the simple truth.”