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didn't clearly remember, but there were two
guilders in his waistcoat pocket. It wouldn't be
noticed. He felt it at the back of his head, he was
afraid of it. At the Exhibition he didn't go and
sit with the group of friends, he called one of them
out, gave him what he owed him and went away.
He sat outside the cafe near the bandstand and
looked at the people all round him. The figures
looked dark as they drew near in the bluish light,
passing slowly by the festoons of coloured fairy-
lamps. There was a smile on nearly every face.
All at once he found himself thinking of Uncle
Gerbrand, who was sitting at home, bent and peering
short-sightedly through his spectacles. He felt faint
and ill, he tried to remember what it was he had to
do, but he couldn't. Two thoughts were confused
in his brain : either he must speak at once and
confess, or he must struggle with himself in silence.
He wouldn't be able to bear Uncle Gerbrand's
eyes, when he addressed him again with the so often
repeated words about sin and forgiveness, looking
at him as though he didn't know which way to turn.
And again there would be silence in the house and
at night sighs in the bedroom next to his. He would
rather have anything than that silence, as though
the very house turned away from him and grew
melancholy.
His glass was empty, he noticed that the people
were leaving. He looked round and he thought: