The Making of a Saint

by W. Somerset Maugham

'It seems a matter of self-preservation,' I said.

'No, no; I won't speak of it! I won't think of it.' He began again to walk excitedly up and down the room. 'I won't think of it, I tell you. I could not.'

Neither Matteo nor I spoke.

'Why don't you speak?' he said to Matteo, impatiently.

'I am thinking,' he answered.

'Not of that; I forbid you to think of that. I will not have it.' Then, after a pause, abruptly, as if he were angry with us and with himself, 'Leave me!'

V

A FEW days later, Matteo came to me as I was dressing, having rescued my clothes from him.

'I wonder you're not ashamed to go out in those garments,' he remarked, 'people will say that you wear my old things.'

I took no notice of the insult.