‘What on earth has happened to you? Your cheek — it’s bleeding!’
‘Oh, nothing serious. When Eline ran out of the house I wanted to go after her, but the wind slammed the vestibule door shut, shattering the glass. Some fragments sprang into my face and eyes, so I couldn’t go in pursuit of her at once, but as soon as I was able, Gerard and I ran out, meaning to drag her home again if necessary. But it was so confoundedly dark — the gas lamps had all gone out in the storm — and she was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know what to do. In the end we went to the police station on Schelpkade, and they sent out a party of nightwatchmen to search for her. She was in a terrible state when she left — I thought she might do herself an injury, and in this infernal weather anything could have happened. My eye is still hurting. I think I’d better see an oculist tomorrow.’
Betsy sighed and fell into a chair. ‘Dreadful! How very upsetting all this is,’ she said. ‘Eline must have taken leave of her senses.’
‘And you’re the one who drove her to it!’ fumed Henk, with his hand to his painful eye.
‘Oh, so now it’s my fault, is it?’
‘Van Raat, there are a few things we ought to discuss,’ interposed Frans. ‘I came here without a moment’s delay, of course, because I thought you would be frantic with worry.’
‘My dear chap, I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Never mind about that. The thing is, Eline has positively declared that she has no intention of going back. Needless to say, an affair such as this is bound to be talked about. People will gossip, which is most disagreeable! Gossip only makes things worse. The servants know what has transpired, I presume?’
Betsy cast Frans an approving look for raising that point.
‘Well, it can’t be helped!’ said Henk impatiently. ‘People always gossip.’
‘That’s true. Still, I think it would be a good idea for you to come round to our house in the morning. See if you can persuade Eline to return home — at least if she’s well enough, because she seemed rather feverish to me when I left. I suggest you let her get some rest now, but come over as soon as you can in the morning.’
‘Very well,’ said Henk, looking dazed.
‘I believe she may have been delirious when I left the house in search of a cab, but she seemed very determined. She gave me her house keys, and kept saying that she would never go back. She also asked me to settle her affairs here,’ he said, looking askance at Betsy, ‘and to arrange for her clothes to be sent on, but I think she said all this in the heat of passion. In any case, I hope we will have come to some amicable arrangement by this time tomorrow.’
‘Look here, Ferelijn,’ said Betsy uneasily, ‘I hope you realise how upsetting this is for me. Goodness knows this is not the first time Eline and I have fallen out, but who could have imagined that she would go and do something so silly? And as you say: it will be the talk of The Hague! So if you can manage to persuade her to change her mind, I’d be eternally grateful. Our house is always open to her. As for her keys, you can leave them here. Yes, I expect it will turn out all right in the end. I’m so glad it was you she went to! But can you imagine — in the middle of the night, in that storm? How could she do it? How on earth could she do it?’
Frans and Henk resumed their conversation, and Henk suggested he stay the night, as Frans had sent away the cab and the storm had not abated. Gerard showed Frans to Henk’s dressing room for a dry set of clothes.
‘Henk, you might ask Ferelijn discreetly how much he paid for that cab,’ Betsy suggested when she was alone with her husband once more. ‘It must have cost him a pretty penny, and it was very kind of him to come at once.’
‘Discreetly, you say — you don’t know the meaning of the word!’ spluttered Henk, and he left the room, shuddering to think of what people were going to say.
. .
Early the next morning Henk drove with Frans Ferelijn to an oculist. There was slight damage to the veins in one eye, and after the removal of a small splinter of glass he felt greatly relieved. His cheek, however, displayed a nasty gash.
‘I look as if I’ve been to war!’ he jested grimly when they were back in the cab on their way to Hugo de Grootstraat. ‘And indeed, my dear Frans, at the moment my house does seem like a battlefield! I, for one, have had quite enough of it.’
Ferelijn’s heart went out to Henk, whose kindly, honest face now wore an expression of utter despondency.
Henk was clearly dreading his interview with Eline. In the event, however, he was spared the ordeal. Eline refused categorically to see him, and from the adjoining room he listened anxiously as she remonstrated with Frans. Why had Frans brought Henk to see her, and why had he taken her keys? Was there no one she could trust? Not even Frans?
Eline sounded hoarse and strident, and it seemed to Henk that she must still be delirious. He could hear Jeanne trying to pacify her, although he could not distinguish the words, then Eline sobbing with self-recrimination and remorse.
Presently Frans returned, raising his shoulders apologetically.
‘She won’t see you. You’d better resign yourself to it for the moment, as she seems to be running a high fever. Do you think Reijer might still be at home at this hour? Perhaps you could drive there and ask him to come over.’
‘Very well,’ said Henk forlornly. ‘I’ll do that.’
Eline moaned softly as she lay on the couch, her limbs twitching restlessly under the woollen comforter. Jeanne had told the children to keep out of the way.
‘You’re so good to me, Jany! But, you see, I can’t possibly stay here and put you to so much trouble!’ she said. ‘You haven’t much room to spare; I’d only get in your way. I shall go to a hotel this afternoon.’
Jeanne sat down on the edge of the couch and took Eline’s hands in hers.
‘Eline, please be sensible. Don’t you worry your head about anything like that. You’re ill, you know. You can stay here, honestly. I’m not saying you must go back to Betsy’s house, but I certainly don’t want you going to a hotel.’
‘Yes, but what if I’m ill — not that I think I am, but you seem to think so. If I’m ill I shan’t be able to leave again for some time. And — and — oh, I know it’s just not possible. Dear, dear Jany, please forgive me for saying this, but it would be beyond your means, and—’
Jeanne’s eyes filled with tears.
‘If that’s what’s troubling you, Eline, you can stay with us and pay for your keep. Just don’t mention the word hotel any more, I beg you. I shan’t be embarrassed; indeed you’re welcome to share in the expenses if that makes you feel better. But do please stay.’
Eline gave a start and shook her tousled locks, which Jeanne tried in vain to brush away from her face. Then she flung her arms around Jeanne and clung to her, the better to savour the flood of sympathy.
‘Oh, you’re such an angel!’ she cried. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings in any way, but yes, I should love to stay. May I? You are so kind, so very kind!’
. .
That afternoon Madame van Raat and Madame Verstraeten called at the Ferelijns’, their minds set on persuading Eline to return to Nassauplein. Betsy came too, having been prevailed upon by Jeanne to apologise to her sister. Eline, however, refused flatly to receive them. In the adjoining room the visitors held their breath as they listened to Eline protesting to Jeanne in no uncertain terms that she would not see anyone, whoever they were. Jeanne — yes, she would see Jeanne, but nobody else!