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Wouters, who had heard that he was searching in
Amsterdam, asked if he could speak to him in the
parlour. He said that a man like Werendonk, who
had a good reputation and was no longer fit enough,
to wear himself out with wandering about all day
in low quarters, would do better to let his son>
Steven, help him. Steven was more in the know,
he had already told them that those young men were
leading Werendonk up the garden path and taking
him here and there in order to get free drinks. So
Steven, who was a sheriff's clerk, came to see him,
and it was arranged that he should make enquiries.
He said there were boys in the street who were no
whit better than Floris, although no one knew
anything about it.
Werendonk had realised that his journeys to the
town would be of no use, they exhausted him and,
moreover, he did the shop no good by being away
so often. He decided to wait and do the work that
had fallen into arrears. At the end of two days,
one evening, before he sat down in the parlour, he
went out to see Wouters on the corner and to ask
if Steven had heard anything yet. And he went
every evening, just for a moment. Afterwards he
sat in the lamp-light with his papers. But he had
no peace, there was always something to disturb
him. He went into the kitchen to tell Stien to stop
scrubbing the floor, and he was hardly seated again
before he could hear her sweeping in the yard. That