He wrote the concluding words with his own hand.
Breakfast was served—bread, cheese, fresh olives, and a light white wine. Julian ate and drank without ceasing work. But suddenly he turned and pointing to the golden plate of olives, asked his favourite slave, who had been brought by him from Gaul, and invariably served him at table—
"Why this gold plate? Where is the other in earthenware?"
"Pardon, sire!... it is broken."
"Broken to pieces?"
"No—at the edge only...."
The slave ran to get the plate in question.
"It can be used for a long time yet," said Julian.
He smiled.