“Yes, we were born free and equal.”
“And true Dutch hearts—what say you, Mrs. Goremest? What do you think, that’s a daughter of M’neer——”
The name died on the speaker’s lips. He became pale.
“A daughter of M’neer——!”
“Certainly. Ask Verlaan.”
Verlaan nodded.
“Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand there dressed that way—like an ordinary girl?”
“Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people have——”
“Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep, too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood.”
“Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts——”