"So, my son," said Father d'Aigrigny, rising with livid and despairing look, "you come to ask of me to break the ties which attach you to the Society?"
"Yes, father; you received my vows—it is for you to release me from them."
"So, my son, you understand that engagements once freely taken by you, are now to be considered as null and void?"
"Yes, father."
"So, my son, there is to be henceforth nothing in common between you and our Company?"
"No, father—since I request you to absolve me of my vows."
"But, you know, my son, that the Society may release you—but that you cannot release yourself."
"The step I take proves to you, father, the importance I attach to an oath, since I come to you to release me from it. Nevertheless, were you to refuse me, I should not think myself bound in the eyes of God or man."
"It is perfectly clear," said Father d'Aigrigny to Rodin, his voice expiring upon his lips, so deep was his despair.
Suddenly, whilst Gabriel, with downcast eyes, waited for the answer of Father d'Aigrigny, who remained mute and motionless, Rodin appeared struck with a new idea, on perceiving that the reverend father still held in his hand the note written in pencil. The socius hastily approached Father d'Aigrigny, and said to him in a whisper, with a look of doubt and alarm: "Have you not read my note?"