“But you must deposit a forfeit,” the man said, as he mounted the ladder to get that precious book.
“No, no, I don’t want the book at all. I only want to know where the boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly,” and she pointed to her money.
“That isn’t necessary,” he said. “I don’t mind accommodating you when you ask me politely.”
He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had forgotten on the counter.
When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses had moved to a “sweller neighborhood.” It was quite a distance away; but Femke was not deterred by that.
Once at the Pieterses’, she was received by the young ladies with a rough, “What do you want?”
“Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would like to know if Walter is all right.”
“What have you got to do with Walter?” asked Juffrouw Pieterse, who had heard the commotion and came down.