A few days had passed, when Brauws rang at the door, late one afternoon. Constance was sitting in the drawing-room and saw him through the corner window; and, as she heard the bell, she felt a shock of alarm. She was afraid, she did not know why, and listened anxiously to his deep voice in the passage.
"Is meneer at home?"
"No, sir."
"Perhaps mevrouw is at home?"
"Yes, sir, mevrouw is in. I'll just ask . . ."
Truitje entered:
"Mr. Brauws, ma'am . . ."
"Show meneer in."
She still felt her heart beating with that strange, inexplicable shock of alarm. And she thought that it was because she was alone with that strange man, who had been a workman in America and who could say such rude things sometimes, suddenly.
They shook hands:
"Henri is out," she said. "But sit down. I see in the paper that you are speaking at Arnhem tomorrow."
"Yes, mevrouw, but I haven't come to talk about
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