"'You wrote the book,' I said, 'I know it by your language. I can read the fact in this defence.'
"'And you will like me no longer. You will condemn me as you have that poor volume,' he answered, turning suddenly, and looking into my eyes with the glance of an eagle.
"'Condemn you!' I said. 'What, I?'
"'But you condemn my book?'
"'No, I did not. To question a thing, is not to condemn it.'
"'But the doubt wounds me. You might have found sympathy for much that the book contains. It should appeal to a heart like yours.'
"He held my hand firmly in his clasp. How it got there, I do not know. I struggled a little to free it, but his fingers closed around mine like a vice.
"'Say that you will read my book again.'
"'I will. Nothing could prevent me now.'
"'And you will read it with a new inspiration?'