She released herself from his embrace which she considered too long and, after the first words of sympathy, asked him quietly:
“Is it true, my dear master, what Mlle. Thérèse has just told me?”
“What was that?” M. Raindal said, mopping his eyes.
“That you do not want to see me again, that you want to break away from us?”
The master did not reply. Once more he burst into tears.
“Why do you want to?” Zozé insisted, as she sat near him on a low stool.
“Because....” M. Raindal sobbed out, unable to finish.
“Because of what?” Zozé asked, helping him as if he were a schoolboy balking at a confession. “Speak frankly to me.... Am I not your friend?”
He contemplated her greedily, with shining eyes where his tears had caused the many little red veins to show more vividly. His words were exhaled rather than spoken:
“Because my affection for you has taken a turn ... an unfortunate turn, alas an excessive turn, I might even say a guilty turn....”