“Her ruin may be repaired.”
Sergius smiled quietly.
“You think so?”
“Yes. Tell me, Sergius”—Anthony spoke with a strong earnestness, a strong excitement that he strove to conceal and hold in check—“you loved her?”
“Yes, I loved her—certainly.”
“You will always love her?”
“Since I'm not changeable, I daresay I shall.”
Anthony's thin, eager face brightened. A glow of warmth burned in his eyes and on his cheeks.
“Then you would wish her ruin repaired.”
“Should I?”