one who kept me from doing that. . . . Do you understand?"
"My dear Mintie," interrupted Lirat, "I did not want you to tell me anything. I am neither your father nor your confessor. Do what you please, that does not concern me in the least."
I became excited.
"You are not my father, that is true. . . but you are my friend. . . and I owe you all the confidence in the world. . . . Forgive me! . . . Yes, I live with Juliette, and I love her and she loves me! . . . Is it a crime to seek a little happiness?. . . Juliette is not the kind of a woman you thought she was. . . she has been calumniated most odiously, Lirat. . . . She is kind and honest. . . . Oh, don't smile. . . she is honest! . . . She has some childish ways about her that would touch even you, Lirat. You don't like her because you don't know her. . . . If you only knew how kind and considerate she is to me! Juliette wants me to work. . . . She ardently believes in me, in my ability to create. . . . Why it was she who sent me here to see you. I was ashamed and afraid. . . . Yes she made me do that! Have a little consideration for her, Lirat. Love her a little, I beg of you!"
Lirat became grave. He put his hand on my shoulder and, looking at me wistfully:
"My dear child!" he said to me in a trembling voice, "why do you tell me all that?"
"Because it is the truth, my dear Lirat! . . because I love you and I want to remain your friend. . . Show me that you are my friend no matter what happens. . . Here now, come to have dinner with us this evening, as we used to in the past, in my own house. Oh, please come!"
"No," he said.
