"You may have heard, Herr Superintendent, that I for a long time shunned my birthplace," Leo began, involuntarily adopting, somewhat, in spite of his natural bluntness, the form of speech of the pulpit orator.
"I have certainly heard something to that effect," replied the latter, cautiously.
"For years I was knocking about in foreign countries, and gave very little thought to the salvation of my soul. I lived according to the morals and customs of my half-civilised surroundings, and saw nothing wrong in so doing."
"That can be taken for granted," the superintendent put in.
"But, now that I find myself back, and in normal circumstances, I see, with horror, the nature of the crime I am guilty of."
The superintendent made a slight inclination of the head, and stroked his shaven chin.
"That, too, is easily understood."
"Put yourself in my place. What once had seemed perfectly legitimate, and in accordance with my sense of honour, began to disturb my conscience, to torment me at night, to hunt me about by day, to render me slack in body and intellect; in fact, it has so transformed my character, that I am but the shadow of my former self."
The parson nodded contentedly, like a doctor does when the patient enumerates one after the other, symptoms of the disease which he has diagnosed beforehand.
"And for this evil you seek a remedy?" he asked.