Valek was taken back.
“I can’t play with you,” he answered sadly.
“Why not?” I asked, deeply grieved by the sorrowful voice in which he had spoken these words.
“Your father is a judge.”
“Well, what if he is?” I asked with candid amazement. “You’d play with me, not with my father!”
Valek shook his head.
“Tiburtsi wouldn’t let me.” And as if the name had reminded him of something, he suddenly recollected himself and went on: “Look here, you’re a fine boy, but you’d better go. If Tiburtsi should find you here it would be awful.”
I agreed that it was time for me to go. The last rays of the setting sun were already fading behind the windows of the chapel, and the town was some distance away.
“How can I get out of here?”
“I’ll show you. We’ll go out together.”