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laughing. He stood up, and in the kitchen he saw
Frans and Stien at the door peering out into the
dark. Frans threw the broom out into the yard>
it was cats, he said. When Werendonk made ready
to go upstairs, a memory he couldn't capture seemed
to flit through his mind.
The following day was Saturday, the shop stayed
open longer ; Floris came later. Before he left, he
stood by the table : ' I can't go on,5 he said, * the
winter is coming and it's getting cold. I must be
here because it calls me, but the house is too old for
me. I've always said so.'—c Nonsense/ answered
Werendonk, * there's nothing wrong with your ances-
tors' house. But if you would like to live somewhere
else, say so, and I'll rent a room for you.' With his
hands over his eyes, Floris said : c That's no use to
me.' He wrapped a woollen scarf Stien had given
him round his neck and made his way backwards
to the door while Werendonk looked at him.
On Sunday it rained all day, but towards nightfall
the wind rose again. Stien didn't want to go out,
but Werendonk told her that it was better for her
to have some diversion after sitting indoors so much.
She left the bread and butter ready on the kitchen
table.
When Werendonk answered the bell he noticed
that both at Thijs's and Briemen's there were faces
at the dark windows, lit up by the flickering street-
lamp ; there was no one in the street. The boy