“Very comforting, isn’t it?”
“I don’t mean that exactly, but....”
“You mean he’s just the only person who could denounce me.”
“There’s some hope left still, you see.”
Julius got up, walked to the window, straightened the folds of the curtain, came back and then leaning forward with his arms folded on the back of the chair he had just left:
“Lafcadio, I shouldn’t like to part from you without a word of advice. It lies entirely with you, I’m convinced, to become an honest man again and to take your place in the world—as far, that is, as your birth permits.... The Church is there to help you. Come, my lad, a little courage; go and confess yourself.”
Lafcadio could not suppress a smile.
“I will think over your kind words.” He took a step forward and then:
“No doubt you will prefer not to shake hands with a murderer. But I should like to thank you for your....”
“Yes, yes,” said Julius with a cordial and distant wave of the hand. “Good-bye, my lad. I hardly dare say ‘au revoir.’ None the less, if later on, you....”