It is a nasty, hissing, furious pool.

A salty spit of satan.

Fie! Fie! Fie!" He goes to the doors at the entrance of the church muttering angrily, threatening, as though celebrating some victory: "Oho! Oho!" "Dan!" "Go home." "Dan! Why don't you light candles when you play?
Dan, I don't love my betrothed.

Do you hear, Dan ?" Dan turns his head unwillingly.
"I have heard it long ago, Mariet.

Tell it to your father." "Where is my mother, Dan ?" "Oho! You are mad again, Mariet?
You are gazing too much at the sea--yes.