Part 20 (1/2)
Mademoiselle, whose eyes had never left his face, s,” she said ”No, no, captain It is not the beginning of apity to the villain in the story Even the first night I met you, I was sorry for you, captain I was sorry as soon as I saw your eyes I knew then that so had happened, and when I heard you speak, I told myself you were not to blame for it I still believe you were not to blame You see, I know your story now”
”Indeed?” said my father ”And you still are sorry Mademoiselle, you disappoint me”
”Yes,” said Mademoiselle, ”I heard the story, and I believe she was to blame, not you After all, she took you for better or worse”
And then a strange thing happened In spite of hiht together It seeh a spasm of pain had seized him, which he could not conceal in spite of his best efforts With an unconscious lass and the color ebbed from his cheeks
”Madelass, Brutus”
The ste had snapped in his hand
”Nonsense,” said Madelanced restlessly away, his face still set and still lined with the trace of suffering
”Mademoiselle,” he said finally, ”you deal with a subject which is still painful Pray excusewhich you may have heard of my affairs is entirely a fault of mine You understand?”
”Yes,” said Mademoiselle, ”I understand, and we shall continue to discuss it, no matter how painful it is to you Who knows, captain; perhaps I can bring you to your senses, or are you going to continue to ruin your life on account of a woman?”
”Be silent, Madearded his interruption
”So she believed that you had filled your shi+p with fifty bales of shavings She believed it, and called you a thief She believed you were as gauche as that I can guess the rest of the story”
But ained his equanis,” he corrected ”You are misinformed even about the merest details”
”And for fifteen years, you have been roving about the world, trying to convince her she was right Ah, you are touched? I have guessed your secret Can anything be ain his face gren and haggard
”She _was_ right,” he said, a little hoarsely ”Believe ht, Mademoiselle”
”Nonsense,” said Mademoiselle ”I do not believe it”
My father turned toof his shoulders
”It is pleasant to remember, is it not, my son, that your ive way to the dictates of a roination?”
”Sir,” I said, ”there is only one reason why I ever came here, and that was because my retted what she said almost the moment you left the house If you had ever written her, if you had ever sent a single word, you could have changed it all In spite of all the evidence, she never came fully to believe it”
”Ah, but you believe it,” said my father quickly