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Updated: May 16, 2025
Jorrocks, on the coffee-room fire, and a table had been handsomely decorated with shrimps, lobsters, broiled bones, fried ham, poached eggs, when just as the clock had finished striking eleven, the coffee-room door opened with a rush, and in tripped Jemmy Green with his hands crammed full of packages, and his trousers' pockets sticking out like a Dutch burgomaster's.
The door had opened, and the burgomaster's wife crossed the threshold. Georg stood opposite to her, held out his hand as if beseeching aid, and murmured in a hollow tone: "Cast forth to death and despair! Maria, Maria, why do you treat me thus?" She laid her right hand in his, saying: "That we may remain worthy of each other, Georg."
"Do you remember the burgomaster's, where I went to get my passport signed? To-day his wife bought some books and a chaplet." "Yes," answered the giant shortly. "Go and ask his servant if I may be sure to find the burgomaster early to-morrow morning." "What for?" "I may, perhaps, have something important to communicate; at all events, say that I beg him not to leave home without seeing me."
To see this young and beautiful woman surrounded by her children, adored by her family, seemed to me a beautiful sight. I left them at an early hour to write to Esther, whom I did not neglect, all occupied as I was with this new flame. Next day I went to hear mass at the little church next to the burgomaster's house. I was well cloaked so as not to attract attention.
After having an excellent dinner with the Princesse de Galitzin, I put on my cloak and went to the cafe. I found there the burgomaster's son, who was just beginning a game of billiards. He whispered to me that I might back him with advantage, and thinking he was sure of his stroke I thanked him and followed his advice.
Adrian, the burgomaster's son, also strolled day after day, alone or with his companions, through the splendors of the fair, often grasping with the secure sense of wealth the leather purse that hung at his belt, for it contained several stivers, which had flowed in from various sources; his father, his mother, Barbara and his godmother.
Van Hout's manly features quickly smoothed and, clasping the burgomaster's right hand in both his, he said joyously: "Thanks, Herr Peter. And no offence; you know my hot temper. If the time seems long to your young wife, send her to mine." "And mine," added Dousa.
A certain Belgian town had been burnt and it had been officially explained that this was done because the German officer who was billeted upon the burgomaster had been shot. The story was that the burgomaster's son shot him because he had raped his sister. The thing got complete possession of March's mind. At first just the horror of it and later its dramatic and musical possibilities.
The Schout could only make arrests with the Burgomaster's warrant, and was obliged to bring the accused, within three days, before the judges, whose courts were open to the public. The condition of the population was prosperous. There were but few poor, and those did not seek but were sought by the almoners: The schools were excellent and cheap.
It lacked only an hour of noon, when the young wife's delicate, slender figure, carrying a white duster in her hand, entered the burgomaster's study. Here she stationed herself at the window, from which the pouring rain streamed in numerous crooked serpentine lines, pressed her forehead against the panes, and gazed down into the quiet street.
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