The old man, left in the dark, holloaed to her in vain ;
then, striking a light for himself, he went and banged
against her door. He got no answer. Worn out, he
stumbled and tumbled into bed, immediately falling
asleep.
Next morning, at the usual hour, Anneke, with drawn
features and red-rimmed eyes, came down and went
about her work. To her uncle she spoke when neces-
sary. Frequently she looked out of window. Her
geranium-pots lay smashed outside — old Pete had done
that in his rage last night, before the fastened door.
She cleared up the mess and hurried in again. She was
ashamed to show her face outside the door, until she
knew how matters would come to stand between her and
her last night's lover. She had always been a good girl —
hitherto that had been her one satisfaction and solace.
Towards noon Harmen Reys came lounging along the
canal and across the open space between the inn and the
clump of cottages. Anneke laid down the pan she was
scouring, and walked out to him at once in the laughing
summer sunshine.
" Harmen Reys," she began, ignoring his pleasant
greeting, " first of all I want to tell you this. What my
uncle said to you was a lie, or as good as a lie. When he
comes to die, all his money will go to Truda. I shall not
have a penny. His money was all his wife's."

Harmen Reys' fair face flushed with swift annoyance.
" Oh, nonsense. That can't be true," he said. " It's a
lie of the old man's, Anneke." Truda had come out of

124



THE FAIR-LOVER

the inn, and advanced halfway towards them, She
stood irresohi teller eyes aflame.
