“I never heard of the creature in my life!” cried the Baron.
“I know her,” remarked Mevrouw, quietly. “Her husband drinks.”
“Saving your presence, Mevrouw,” said Jan, without moving a muscle, “she says her husband’s been dead these seven years.”
“Well, if he had lived, he’d have drunk,” replied the Baroness, indifferently. “And, besides, if she’s been a widow so long she must have children earning something.”
Otto got up and walked towards the window.
“Send her away,” exclaimed the Baron. “It’s like her insolence, asking for me!”
“She says she has a letter from the Burgomaster, mynheer,” gently persisted the servant. Menials are always pamperedly insolent to mendicants or aggressively sympathetic regarding them. They are never indifferent.
“Then why didn’t you bring it up? Why doesn’t she go to the relieving officer? I can’t be bothered. There, give her a twopenny bit, and let her go.”
Otto stood at the window, looking out.
“The people are unendurable,” said the Baron, as the servant departed. “Always wanting something, and always asking for it. As if it were our duty to supply unlimited gin!”