It is not my place to ask their reasons." Dirk looked at Greta, and was convinced that she was lying.

He put his hand in his pocket, to find to his disgust that he had forgotten his purse.

Then he thought of giving her a kiss and trying to melt the truth out of her in this fashion, but remembering that if he did, she might tell Lysbeth, which would make matters worse than ever, refrained.

So the end of it was that he merely said "Oh! indeed," and went away.
"Great soft-head," reflected Greta, as she watched his retreating form, "he knew I was telling lies, why didn't he push past me, or--do anything.

Ah! Mynheer Dirk, if you are not careful that Spaniard will take your wind.