“With pleasure, sir!”
Then he replaced the last book he had taken up—a copy of Musset—and called me.
“Come, Fabien.”
Arm in arm we strolled up the Rue de Medicis along the railings of the Luxembourg.
I felt the crisis approaching. My uncle has a pet saying: “When a thing is not clear to me, I go straight to the heart of it like a ferret.”
The ferret began to work.
“Now, Fabien, about these bonds I mentioned? Did I guess right?”
“Yes, uncle, I have been in bondage.”
“Quite right to make a clean breast of it, my boy; but we must break your bonds.”
“They are broken.”