For having beaten Protos at chess1 punta.
For having shown that I spoke Italian3 punte.
For having answered before Protos1 p.
For having had the last word1 p.
For having cried at hearing of Faby’s death4 p.

Julius, reading hurriedly, took punta to be some kind of foreign coin and assumed that the figures were nothing but a childish and trifling computation of merits and rewards. Then the accounts came to an end again. Julius turned another page and read:

This 4th April, conversation with Protos:

“Do you understand the meaning of the words, ‘TO PUSH ON’?

There the writing stopped.

Julius shrugged his shoulders, pursed up his lips, shook his head and put the book back where he had found it. He took out his watch, got up, walked to the window and looked out; it had stopped raining. He went towards the corner of the room where he had put down his umbrella when he first came in; at that moment he saw, leaning back a little in the opening of the doorway, a handsome, fair young man, who was watching him with a smile on his lips.

III

The youth of the photograph had hardly aged. Juste-Agénor had said nineteen; one would not have taken him for more than sixteen. Lafcadio could certainly have only just arrived; when Julius was putting back the pocket-book a moment before, he had raised his eyes to look at the door and had seen no one; but how was it he had not heard him coming? An instinctive glance at the young man’s feet showed Julius that he was wearing goloshes instead of boots.

There was nothing hostile about Lafcadio’s smile; he seemed amused, on the contrary—and ironical; he had kept his travelling-cap on his head, but when he met Julius’s eyes, he took it off and bowed ceremoniously.