On the day after that of Anna and Denah's visit, Herr Van Heigen
offered to show Julia the bulb barns. It was a Saturday, and so after
dinner, the workmen having all gone home, there was no one about and
she could ascend the steep barn ladders without any suffering in her
modesty. At least that was what Mijnheer thought; Julia, her modesty
being of a very serviceable order, may have given the matter less
consideration, but she accepted the offer.
The barns were very large and high, many of them three storeys and
each storey lofty. The light inside was dim, a sort of dun colour, and
the air very dry and full of a strange, not unpleasant smell.
Everything was as clean as clean could be; no litter, no dirt, the
floor nicely swept, the shelves that ran all round and rose, tier upon
tier, in an enormous stand that occupied the whole centre of the
place, all perfectly orderly. On the shelves the bulbs lay, every one
smooth and clean and dry, sorted according to kind and quality;
Mijnheer knew them all; he could, like a book-lover with his books,
put his hand upon any that he wished in the dark. It seemed to Julia
that there were hundreds upon hundreds of different sorts. Not only
hyacinths and tulips and such well-known ones in endless sizes and
varieties, but little roots with six and seven syllable names she had
never heard before, and big roots, too, and strange cornery roots, a
never-ending quantity.
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