? Is there nothing else?..."

But another thought gave her fresh zest, fresh courage. She remembered
the conversation which she had had with her husband a little while ago,
she remembered his reproach that she was not thinking of her son, that
she was doing nothing for her son, that she would let herself take root
in the shade, continue to vegetate, in her disgrace, in her corner,
withdrawn into herself, in her own rooms, would continue to sit "cursing
her luck" in her Kerkhoflaan. No, she felt fresh zest, fresh courage;
and she almost pushed Bertha as she repeated:

"Call your husband.... Paul, will you please call Van der Welcke and ask
him to come to the boudoir?..."

She could hardly walk, she was pale as a corpse; and her black eyes
quivered. She went alone to the little boudoir. There was no one there.
Decanters, glasses, cakes and sandwiches were put out, as usual. She
looked up at her father's portrait: Oh, what an ugly daub it seemed to
her: hard, with the hard, expressionless eyes and all that false glitter
on the yellow-and-white stars of the decorations! It stared at her like
an implacable spectre, grim and unforgiving. It stared at her almost as
though it wished to speak:

"Go. Go away. Go out of my house of honour, of greatness and decency.
Go. Go away. Go out of my town. Go away from me and mine. Go. It was you
who murdered me. You caused my long illness, you caused my death, you,
you! Go!"

The little room stifled her. She would have liked to run away, but Van
der Welcke and Paul entered.

"What do you want to do, Constance?" asked Van der Welcke.

"To speak to Van Naghel."

"Not an explanation?"

"I don't know. He's annoyed at my visit of Tuesday last."

"Annoyed!" Van der Welcke seethed. "Annoyed at your visit!"

"For God's sake, Van der Welcke!" cried Paul, terrified. "Don't always
fly out like that. Do remember...."

"Annoyed!" foamed Van der Welcke. "Annoyed!"

"Henri, _please!_" cried Constance. "I thank you for resenting the
insult offered to your wife. But restrain yourself: he'll be here in a
minute. Restrain yourself, for Addie's sake...."

"Restrain myself! Restrain myself!" shouted Van der Welcke, like a
madman.

The door opened. Van Naghel and Bertha entered.

"Do you want to speak to me, Constance?" asked Van Naghel.

"I should very much like to speak to you for a moment, Van Naghel," said
Constance, while Paul made signs to Van der Welcke as though begging him
to cont