"Yes, Dad, I know . . ."
"You know?"
"Yes."
"You understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
"When I came home, I was tired and mad with misery. Mamma came upstairs and talked to me. She told me that Van Vreeswijck . . . had asked her to go to the Bezuidenhout and speak to Aunt Bertha . . . and to Marianne, because Van Vreeswijck . . . do you understand?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Mamma went. I was furious when I heard that she had been. But she said that Marianne refused . . ."
"Marianne refused him?"
"Yes. Then . . . then Mamma said . . . then she asked . . . if it wouldn't be better that we—she and I—do you understand?"
"Yes, Dad."
"She said it in a very nice way. She said it gently, not at all angrily. It was nice of her to think of it, you know, Addie."
"Yes, Dad, she is nice."
"Well, old chap, then . . . then I gave her a kiss . . . because she was so nice about it and said it so kindly. And then . . . then I went cycling again."
"Yes."
"I can think best when I'm cycling. I rode and
