And he turned his face to the wall.
Then they all went back to the kitchen. The goat’s food was done. Zalia hung the kettle with water on the hook and made coffee; and the four women sat round the table telling one another stories of illness. In the other room there was no sound.
A bit later, Mite’s little girl came to see where mother was all this time. She was given a lump of sugar and sat down by her mother.
“Zalia, have you only one lamp?” asked Treze.
“That’s all, Treze, but I have the candle.”
“What candle?”
“The blessed candle.”
“We’ve not come to that yet: it’s only that Zeen has to lie in the dark like this and we have to go to and fro with the lamp to look at him.”
“Zeen would rather lie in the dark.”
“I’ll tell you what: Fietje shall run home and fetch something, won’t you, Fietje? And say that mother is going to stay here because Zeen is dying.”