Kroll.
Well but—the faith of your fathers?
Rosmer.
It is mine no more.
Kroll.
No more!
Rosmer.
[Rises.] I have given it up. I had to give it up, Kroll.
Kroll.
[Controlling his agitation.] Oh, indeedYes, yes, yes. I suppose one thing goes with another. Was this, then, your reason for leaving the Church?
Rosmer.
Yes. As soon as my mind was clear—as soon as I was quite certain that this was no passing attack of scepticism, but a conviction I neither could nor would shake off—then I at once left the Church.
Kroll.
So this has been your state of mind all this time! And we—your friends—have heard nothing of it. Rosmer—Rosmer—how could you hide the miserable truth from us!
Rosmer.
Because it seemed to me a matter that concerned myself alone. And besides, I did not wish to give you and my other friends any needless pain. I thought I might live on here, as before, quietly, serenely, happily. I wanted to read, to bury myself in all the studies that until then had
