“It will not occur again. I have burnt the pocket-book.”
Julius’s features expressed grief.
“If I were still angry I shouldn’t mention it. Forgive my manner when I came in just now,” went on Lafcadio, determined to send his thrust home. “All the same I should like very much to know whether you read a scrap of letter as well, that happened to be in the pocket-book?”
Julius had not read any scrap of letter, for the very good reason that he had not found any; but he took the opportunity of protesting his discretion. It amused Lafcadio to show his amusement.
“I partly revenged myself yesterday on your new book.”
“It is not at all likely to interest you,” Julius hastened to say.
“Oh, I didn’t read the whole of it. I must confess I am not very fond of reading. In reality the only book I ever enjoyed was Robinson Crusoe.... Oh, yes! Aladdin too.... That must do for me in your opinion.”
Julius raised his hand gently.
“I merely pity you. You deprive yourself of great joys.”