“Well, you have obeyed that precept,” replied the Dominé, a little bitterly. Then he repented immediately.
“Otto, you’re a good fellow. I can’t let my Ursula go away to Java.”
“I was wrong, perhaps,” said Otto, “to demand so great a sacrifice. I ought to have spoken more plainly of my intentions beforehand—”
“You ought, indeed,” interjected the Dominé, glad of every vent. “You have behaved exceedingly badly.”
“So be it. Well, I leave the matter in your hands. Personally, of course, I consider I ought to return. I have a fresh offer—a really advantageous opening on a sugar plantation, a large distillery—”
The Dominé looked at him.
“That means rough work,” said the Dominé.
“But you must decide,” continued Otto, evasively. “If you distinctly prefer it, I shall look for occupation in Holland. Only in no case can I remain at the Horst.”
“You can,” cried the Dominé, quite angrily.
Otto had stopped. His eyes were following a distant swallow’s trackless dips.