She went very pale.
“But—father—it is not possible!”
“What, dearest?”
“M. Olden Barnenveldt was beheaded, father!”
“Sometimes I think of it—to-day when I crossed the Plaats——”
Agneta shuddered.
“Sir, do not speak like that.”
He roused himself from a sad reverie.
“Nay, sweet heart, I must not grieve thee with my foolish thoughts; ’tis not often that thou beguilest me into talking State affairs here—where I am at peace.”