“Then you had never seen me before?”
And he answered after a moment:
“I had never seen Donna Roma Volonna until to-day.”
“Forgive me for coming to you,” she said.
“I thank you for doing so,” he replied, “and if I have sinned against you, from this hour onward I am your friend and champion. Let me try to right the wrong I have done you. I am ready to do it if I can, no matter at what self-abasement. I am eager to do it, and I shall never forgive myself until it is done. What I said was the result of a mistake—let me ask your forgiveness.”
“You mean publicly.”
“Yes! At ten o’clock they send for my article for the morning’s paper. To-morrow morning I will beg your pardon in public for the public insult I have offered you.”
“You are very good, very brave,” she said; “but no, I will not ask you to do that.”
“Ah! I understand. I know it is impossible to overtake a lie. Once started it goes on and on, like a stone rolling down-hill, and even the man who started can never stop it. Tell me what better can I do—tell me, tell me.”