“You think you understand men?”
“Some men.”
“Me, for instance?”
The question came abruptly, defiantly. Anthony seemed glad to answer it.
“Well, yes, Sergius; I think I do thoroughly understand you. My great friendship alone might well make me do that.”
The face of Sergius grew a little softer in expression, but he did not assent.
“Perhaps it might blind you,” he said.
“I don't think so.”
“Well, then, now, if you understand me—tell me—”
Sergius broke off suddenly.