"I think I know," replied Paul.
Both of them had become calm by this time, and each talked in an almost unrestrained manner. The judge was no longer almost overwhelmed by that through which he had been passing, and Paul had seemingly, to a very large extent, forgotten the bitterness which he had felt at the beginning of their interview.
"May I come to see you again?" asked Judge Bolitho.
"To what end?" asked Paul.
"Because I love you, my son. Because I long to be near you. Because I want to win your love; to hear you say you forgive me. I have sinned against you; but, believe me, I have done all in my power to atone. I must go now, but I shall be thinking for you, hoping for you, working for you, praying for you."
There was something so humble and so sincere in the tones of his voice that, in spite of the past, Paul could not longer repel him.
"Won't you shake hands?" he said. "Won't you tell me that you will try to forgive me?—only try, Paul!"
But Paul stood as still as a statue. He felt himself yielding to his father's pleadings, and he was angry with himself because of it. And yet he could not destroy the tender feelings which were coming into his heart.
"Will nothing move you, my son—nothing?"
Still Paul did not reply. He was afraid to speak. He felt as though, if he uttered a word, it would end in a sob. They had been together more than an hour, and in the near distance a clock began to chime.