At the wedding of the daughter of a friend of mine in Holland. It takes place at the Binnenhof (Inner Court). The queen of the Netherlands is there. I enter through a hall. Since the queen is there, I'm being checked at a long table. I say that my name is Bosnak. John Bosnak, my elder brother, is already there. "Just go in," the woman says. There is a double wedding. On the podium there are two brides. To the right is the queen in a pew all by herself. I am in a wooden pew some eight rows down. The other bride is talking to the audience. Her younger brother comes up and wants to say something. A struggle ensues. Then we are in the back yard. The queen is there and comes over to me. I tell her that I am one of her subjects abroad. She says: "Ah, you want to be in a little class." I see that she is right, that I have trouble being alone as a Dutchman. That this is what I have to learn. She introduces herself as the wife of a famous Dutch novelist. Now she is gray and not the queen.