“The Dam,” was the answer. “Botermarkt,” said another passenger. “Rokin, No. 11,” said another; and another followed with “The Mint.”
“Sir?” said the inquisitive man, addressing Gijs.
“I?” asked Gijs, staring wildly; “to the Fair, isn’t it, father?”
All the passengers laughed, except three or four who were in a hurry to get to the Exchange.
“Be’st mad, I think, boy,” said Gerrit, grinning. “No, mate,” he went on, addressing the conductor, “to a lodging.”
“Which hotel?” was then the question. “First, second, third, fourth, fifth class? Rondeel, Doelen, Munt—or do you want to go to the Nes?”[[17]]
Whether Gerrit was thinking of the third-class carriage in which he had been sitting with Gijs, and contrasting it with the imaginary first-class where he found a place by the side of Nathan, we do not know; but it is certain that he shivered at the idea of a fifth-class, and had his answer ready at once—
“First-class, man! First-class!”
“Vieux Doelen!” cried the conductor, with a smile and a furtive wink at the passenger next the door.
The omnibus stopped, and Gerrit and Gijs were beckoned to come out. How they ever got through the double row of knees is quite incomprehensible; and twice did the heels of Gijs’ heavy boots come unpleasantly in contact with corns, whose proprietors, therefore, unkindly addressed him as “Clumsy lout!” and “Dumb ass!”