Van der Welcke woke that morning from a long, sound sleep and stretched himself luxuriously in the warmth of the sheets. But suddenly he remembered what he had been dreaming; and, as he did so, he gazed into the wardrobe-glass, in which he could just see himself from his pillow. A smile began to flicker about his curly moustache; his blue eyes lit up with merriment. The sheets, which still covered his body—he had flung his arms above his head-rose and fell with the ripple of his silent chuckles; and suddenly, irrepressibly, he burst into a loud guffaw:
"Addie!" he shouted, roaring with laughter.
"Addie, are you up? . . . Addie, come here for a minute!"
The door between the two rooms opened; Addie entered.
"Addie! . . . Just imagine . . . just imagine what I've been dreaming. It was at the seaside—Ostende or Scheveningen or somewhere—and everybody, everybody was going about . . . half-naked . . . their legs bare . . . and the rest beautifully dressed. The men had coloured shirts and light jackets and exquisite ties and straw hats, gloves and a stick in their hands . . . and the rest . . .
