“But that’s all right—afterwards, when your mouth is empty. You must eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at once. There is chocolate; and you’re to have a little dram, too. I’ve always said that you are a nice boy; but they’re forever plaguing you so. But you’re not eating enough; do just as if you were at home.”
For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of fear. Why, he could not have told to save him.
Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to stay long.
There wasn’t a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able to escape from the enemy.
Promising “to come back soon” he ran down the steps and into the street.
An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she was going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn’t know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back so soon?
Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his intention to visit Femke—not at all, really not! For he didn’t have his Ophelia with him—proof conclusive that when he left home he had not thought of Femke.
And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel—oh, they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?