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Updated: June 3, 2025
"I did not know, or I would not have come in, Koosje," she said, humbly; "for I treated you very badly." "Ve-ry bad-ly," returned Koosje, emphatically. "Then where is Jan?" "Dead!" murmured Truide, sadly. "Dead! so ah, well! I suppose I must do something for you. Here Yanke!" opening the door and calling, "Yanke!" "Je, jevrouw," a voice cried, in reply.
A strange, mad, fierce passion for Truide had taken possession of him, and an utter distaste, almost dislike, had come in place of the old love for Koosje. Truide was unlike anything he had ever come in contact with before; she was so fairy-like, so light, so delicate, so dainty.
"Just as well," muttered Koosje, under her breath. "It is very good of you to have fed and warmed us," Truide went on, in her faint, complaining tones. "Many a one would have let me starve, and I should have deserved it. It is very good of you and we are grateful; but 'tis time we were going, Koosje and Mina;" then added, with a shake of her head, "but I don't know where."
Could the lady give her something to eat? she asked; they had had nothing during the day, and the little ones were almost famished. Koosje, who was very charitable, lifted a tray of large, plain buns, and was about to give her some, when her eyes fell upon the poor beggar's faded face, and she exclaimed: "Truide!" Truide, for it was she, looked up in startled surprise.
"I never thought it would be Truide," she repeated to herself, as she closed the door behind the last of the gay uniforms and jingling scabbards. "And Jan is dead ah, well!" Then she went into the kitchen, where the miserable children girls both of them, and pretty had they been clean and less forlornly clad were playing about the stove. "So Jan is dead," began Koosje, seating herself.
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