The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the entire company.
“And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you, Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter—what do you all think you are?”
No one knew.
This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult knowledge of the “self” is; but Stoffel had something else in mind. There was a deeper meaning involved.
Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud self-sufficiency:
“I am Juffrouw Laps!”
“Wrong, wrong—entirely wrong!”
“But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?”
“Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but Stoffel didn’t ask who you were, but what you were. There’s the fine point.”
“What I am? I’m Dutch Reform!”