"I never knew till later that you were there also that year. But you were at Monte Carlo and I at Antibes. Just compare the dates."

They compared dates: Brauws was right.

"But that was horribly unlucky."

"It couldn't be helped. However, we've found each other now."

"Yes. We must see something of each other now, eh? Let's go cycling together ... or buy a motor-car between us."

Brauws roared with laughter again:

"Happy devil!" he shouted.

"I?" cried Van der Welcke, a little huffed. "What's there happy about me? I sometimes feel very miserable, very miserable indeed."

Brauws understood that he was referring to his marriage.

"Here's my boy," said Van der Welcke, showing Addie's photograph.

"A good face. What's he going to be?"

"He's going into the diplomatic service. I say, shall we take a stroll?"

"No, I'd rather sit here and talk."

"You're just as placid as ever...."

Brauws laughed:

"Outwardly, perhaps," he said. "Inwardly, I'm anything but placid."

"Have you been abroad much?"

"Yes."

"What do you do?"

"Much ... and perhaps nothing. I am seeking...."

"What?"

"I can't explain it in a few words. Perhaps later, when we've seen more of each other."

"You're the same queer chap that you always were. What are you seeking?"

"Something."

"There's our old oracle. 'Something!' You were always fond of those short words."

"The universe lies in a word."

"Max, I can't follow you, if you go on like that. I never could, you know."

"Tell me about yourself now, about Rome, about Brussels."

Van der Welcke, smoking, described his life, more or less briefly, through the blue clouds of his cigarette. Brauws listened:

"Yes," he said. "Women...."

He had a habit of not finishing his sentences, or of saying only a single word.

"And what have women done to you?" asked Van der Welcke, gaily.

Brauws laughed:

"Nothing much," he said, jestingly. "Not worth talking about. There have been many women in my life ... and yet they were not there."

Van der Welcke reflected.

"Women," he said, pensively. "Sometimes, you know...."

"Hans, are you in love?"

"No, no!" said Van der Welcke, starting. "No, I've been fairly good."

"Fairly good?"

"Yes, only fairly..."

"You're in love," said Brauws, decisively.

"You're mad!" said Van der Welcke. "I wasn't thinking of myself.... And, now, what are you doing in the Hague?"

Brauws laughed:

"I'm going to give lectures, not only here, but all over Holland."

"Lectures?" cried Van der Welcke, in astonishment. "What made you think of that? Do you do it to make money? Don't you find it a bore to stand jawing in front of a lot of people for an hour at a time?"

"Not a bit," said Brauws. "I'm lecturing on Peace."

"Peace?" cried Van der Welcke, his blue orbs shining in wide-eyed young amazement through the blue haze of his cigarette-smoke. "What Peace?"

"Peace, simply."

"You're getting at me," cried Van der Welcke.

Brauws roared; and Van der Welcke too. They laughed for quite a minute or two.