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OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

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A CRIME IN HOLLAND 211<br />

A few hours before, she had been strung up to tragic pitch.<br />

There was nothing left of it now. She looked older. Her coat was<br />

so badly made that one shoulder looked broader than the other.<br />

One couldn't help noticing her big feet, and also a scar on her neck<br />

below the ear.<br />

Any cut a still poorer figure. Her features had never been so<br />

irregular. Her clothes were absurd, and there was even something<br />

mean about them.<br />

Madame Popinga took her place in the middle of the front row.<br />

The place of honour. The last time she had sat there, widi all<br />

Delfzijl behind her, she had been pink with pride.<br />

" Who sat beside you? "<br />

" The captain of the training-ship."<br />

" And on the other side? "<br />

" Monsieur Wienands."<br />

The latter was requested to take his place. He still had his overcoat<br />

on. He sat down awkwardly, trying not to catch anybody's eye.<br />

" And Madame Wienands? "<br />

" At the end of the row, because of the children."<br />

" Beetje?"<br />

The girl took her seat before Madame Popinga could answer.<br />

She was two places away from Any, the chair between them being<br />

the one Conrad Popinga had sat in.<br />

Pijpekamp stood in the background. He was uneasy and<br />

altogether out of his depth. Jean Duclos was dejectedly waiting to<br />

be called upon to play his part.<br />

" Go up on to the platform," said Maigret.<br />

Of all the people in the room he was perhaps the most pitiable.<br />

Standing on the platform, thin, badly dressed, lifeless, it was impossible<br />

to imagine him having been the great attraction a few nights<br />

before.<br />

Another pause. The silence was as bleak as that miserable light<br />

which fell from the high ceiling. Four or five times Oosting coughed<br />

at the back of die room.<br />

Even Maigret could hardly have been called comfortable. He<br />

looked mournfully at the spurious drama which he was staging,<br />

his eye resting on one character after the other, taking in the<br />

smallest details—the way Beetje sat in her chair, Any's skirt, which<br />

was too long, the professor's dirty fingernails as he stood drumming<br />

on the table, trying not to look too silly.<br />

" How long did you speak? "

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