“But can constancy do that?”
“Don’t you think so, into a world of ceaseless change?”
“Then how shall we reckon truth in a world of lies?” asked the Count. “Is that a fault, too?”
“Ask Monsieur Androvsky,” said Domini, quickly.
“I obey,” said the Count, looking over at his guest.
“Ah, but I am sure I know,” Domini added. “I am sure you think truth a thing we should all avoid in such a world as this. Don’t you, Monsieur?”
“If you are sure, Madame, why ask me?” Androvsky replied.
There was in his voice a sound that was startling. Suddenly the priest reached out his hand and lifted Bous-Bous on to his knee, and Count Anteoni very lightly and indifferently interposed.
“Truth-telling among Arabs becomes a dire necessity to Europeans. One cannot out-lie them, and it doesn’t pay to run second to Orientals. So one learns, with tears, to be sincere. Father Roubier is shocked by my apologia for my own blatant truthfulness.”
The priest laughed.