Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
The usual cries of, “What on earth is the matter?” “Lord ’a’ mercy—what has happened?” were forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that the customary glass of water was offered and drunk, and that proper efforts were being made to get the unhappy one to “calm herself.”
Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it was impossible for her to utter a word.
It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
“I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I’m so frightened and excited that I can’t talk.”
“Goodness!”
“Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope. Really, I can’t speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie. Listen, how my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn’t it? I’m in a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where’s—Stoffel?”
“He’s undressing,” said Juffrouw Pieterse. “He goes to bed before me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know; and Trudie must stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That’s why I sleep with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then he draws the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why——”
“How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I’m just beside myself from fright! And is—Laurens in bed too?”
“Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the printing-house early.”