1*5
A week after Stien had gone away, turning
to his brother at supper-time, Werendonk said :
c Tomorrow, I must come to a decision about
Stien. If she can't clear things up, then the
police will have to do it. It's a pity with such
a faithful servant, but there's nothing else to be
done.'
Floris stood up ; he clutched the back of his chair
and said in a shaking voice : £ Well then, if I must
say it, it was I did it. But it's the way you've
brought me up. Always in this dark house, that
boring old shop, and never any more pocket-money
than a child. And why ? Because my father was a
thief, am I to suffer for it ? I was taken into this
house as though it were a favour, but I've never
heard of anything but sin and duty and good be-
haviour, and no one has cared an atom about my
needs. You've embittered my whole life, that's
what you've done, in this gruesome house. Send
me to prison ! What matter ? It'll come to that
in the end. And if stealing isn't enough, then per-
haps I'll do something else.' He seized his chair in
both hands and swung it round to hit Werendonk,
but Frans had jumped up and received the blow on
his arm. Werendonk rose from his seat; he stood
up tall in front of Floris, who recoiled and dropped
the chair. He said quietly : c Go upstairs and think
over your words/
The brothers sat down at the table again, their