"Eh? What? My dear friend, if it's painful to you, don't make it."
"Fabien," my uncle went on, "has behaved badly to me on certain occasions. But I say no more of it. His faults are forgotten. But I have not behaved to him altogether as I should."
"You, uncle?"
"Alas! It is so, my dear child. My practice, the family practice, which
I faithfully promised your father to keep for you—"
"You have sold it?"
My uncle buried his face in his hands.
"Last night, my poor child, only last night!"
"I thought so."
"I was weak I listened to the prompting of anger; I have compromised your future. Fabien, forgive me in your turn."
He rose from the table, and came and put a trembling hand on my shoulder.