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DR. ADRIAAN

"He thought himself incurable."

"Still, he was strong?"

"Physically."

"He was like Guy, wasn't he?"

"Yes, Guy is very like him, to look at. . . . He was tall, broad, fair-haired . . ."

"Yes, that's how I remember him. I was eight years old then."

"You were a jolly little tribe."

"And now we're nothing but a burden . . . to you. . . ."

"Nonsense, it's not as bad as that!"

"I hope things'll go better . . . Addie . . . at Amsterdam. . . ."

"Why aren't you more talkative, Alex? . . . You haven't been for a long time."

"Haven't I?"

"You never talk, at home . . . to the others. Only once in a way to me . . . when we are alone. It was after Alkmaar that you became so silent. It wasn't surely because I was angry at the time?"

"Perhaps, partly . . ."

"Well?"

"I daren't tell you."

"Tell me, Alex, if there is anything I can do for you."

"You do so much as it is, Addie. . . . You do everything."

"But speak quite openly. Perhaps there is something more that I can do for you."

"No, what could there be?"

"Something's upsetting you."

"No . . ."

"You're unhappy."

"No . . ."

"You're so reserved."

"I . . . never talk much."