“I do not see anything very astonishing in what I have said. Please listen to me a moment, mother. To hesitate between two creeds, without being able to decide on either, seems to me a proof of weakness. But if, on the contrary, Adams invented this story of his conversion in order to yield at a favorable moment and gain the good-will of my father more than ever, would not this show a duplicity and artfulness that could only belong to a hypocrite?...”
“Adams could not have invented such a thing. It would have rendered him liable to dismissal.”
“I beg your pardon, mother. Adams did not risk anything. The course he has taken proves it. And that is precisely what makes me distrust him.”
“How can you impute such motives to anybody!... Adams has renounced his intention, because he was convinced by your father’s arguments. He has behaved like an honest man!”
“Excuse me, mother; we are in more danger than ever of not understanding each other. Why! you seem to rejoice that Adams has returned to his errors! You appear to think his course very natural, and to approve of it!”
“Yes, I do approve of it; people ought not to change their religion.”
“You might as well say a person ought not to acknowledge his error when he is mistaken. I am by no means of your opinion, though I am not very religious.”
“A propos of religion, my dear, you seem to have taken a strange turn. You have grown so rigorous as to astonish me; there is not an ultra notion you do not approve of. You have completely changed since.... But I will not make you angry.”
“Since M. Louis came here?... A pretty idea. But I am not surprised.”
“You said it yourself, but it is true. Since that man came here, you have changed every way. I know not why or wherefore, but it is a fact. Your cousin himself has observed it, and it grieves him. You are no longer towards him as you once were. You keep him at a distance. You are not lively as you used to be. You only talk of things serious enough to put one asleep.”