taken ill. After all, it's a rotten incident . . . for us."
"Yes, it's very rotten for us."
"Lord, Lord, how people will jabber!"
"Of course they will."
"Of course they will."
"If things con-tin-ue like this . . . I shall leave the Hague," said Karel. "Ca-teau said so too."
He copied his wife's voice: he always copied her voice, unconsciously, when he talked about her.
"Are we nearly there?"
"No such luck!"
"Lord, what a day! . . ."
"How people will talk! . . ."
The carriage containing Constance had driven on ahead of the procession. Emilie leant against her, feebly and listlessly, without speaking or hearing. When they approached the Kerkhoflaan, Emilie said:
"Auntie . . . it's just stupid chance. . . ."
"What, dear?"
"Is this life? My life has never been anything but stupid chance! The little pleasure I had . . . and the sorrow . . . was all stupid chance! I am now so miserable; and it's all . . . all stupid chance! . . . Oh, Auntie, I shall never be able to live . . . not now, when Henri's death will always . . . will always haunt me like an accusing ghost! . . . Auntie . . . do other people have so much
