"Yes, I will go as far as that. The fault of the child or the fault of the man, is but a question of degree. Some err deliberately, some are hurried into error by passions which master them."
"By natural passions?"
"All such passions are natural, although it is the fashion to condemn them when they clash with the conditions of social life. The workings of the moral and sympathetic affections are beyond our own control."
"Of those who have erred with deliberate intention and those who have been hurried blindly into error, which should you be most ready to forgive?"
"The latter," replied the Advocate, conscious that in his answer he was condemning himself; "they are comparatively innocent, having less power over, and being less able to retrace their steps."
"You pause," said Almer, a sudden thrill agitating his veins. "Why?"
"I thought I heard a sound--like a suppressed laugh! Did you not hear it?"
"No. I heard nothing."
Almer's teeth met in scorn of himself as he uttered this falsehood. The sound of the laugh was low but distinct, and it proceeded from the room in which Adelaide was concealed.
The Advocate stepped to the door by which he had entered, and looked up and down the passage, to which two lamps gave light. It was quiet and deserted.