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when I was young myself that the Forest brings
health to the young folks of our town. Only one
walk and you are looking happy already.' And
Frans said : € And it's almost at the door, I can still
remember that in clear weather you can hear the
clock even in the Spanjaardslaan. We boys used
to know then that it was time for us to hurry
home. I expect we were a bit frightened of Uncle
Gerbrand.'
He went there more often ; between office hours
only for a quarter of an hour or so ; on Sundays in
the morning and in the afternoon. He found the
paths where he had played games as a child, the
trees on which he had carved his name, and he
noticed that the Forest was not as big as he used to
think it was ; before he realised it he had walked
from one end to the other. In the office he sat think-
ing about it, how free he felt when he was there, and
at home he told them about the lanes and the oak-
trees* For the first time for years they noticed that
it was spring at the Werendonks, and Stien sang so
shrilly that sometimes her voice cracked.
In the April of that spring he saw Wijntje. It was
the last house on the Forest road—low, coloured a
bluish white, with weather-beaten green shutters,
the branches of the chestnut-trees stretched over the
roof. He opened the gate, the letter in his hand
which he had been sent to deliver there ; the maid-
servant stood on the step with her back to him