head, a bright light caught her brow, the gold rings sparkled in her
ears, the tip of her nose shone, and the wings of her cap stood out in
the shadow like the wings of a bird. She wore a coarse woollen skirt,
over which hung the full basque of her flowered jacket, but as Tobias'
arm was round her waist the stiff pleats were not in such perfect order
as usual.

Riekje and Dolf sat hand in hand on the other side of the room; they had
drawn as idea little that they might look at one another unbeknown to
the others, and their faces were close together. When they moved, the
candlelight struck Dolf's shaven chin, Riekje's red lips, their necks or
their pierced ears, as the sun strikes the belly of a fish below the
water. Kettles, saucepans, and pots shone on the shelves and the shadows
in the corners were soft as velvet.

"What is the matter, Riekje?" cried Dolf suddenly, "you are as white as
those plates in the cupboard, and your eyes are closed. My Riekje, what
is the matter with you?"

"Ah! Dolf," replied Riekje, "if it were to happen to-day! I have been in
pain all the afternoon, and now I feel worse. My child! If I die, you
will love it, Dolf, dear?"

"Mother! Mother!" cried Dolf, "I am sick at heart."

Then he hid his face in his big hands and began to sob, without knowing
the reason.

"Come, Dolf, be brave," said Tobias, tapping him on the shoulder. "We
have all gone through this!"