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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 139
hand, unable to utter a word. I honoured his evident
grief by a respectful silence, and he withdrew again.
frhe dusk was beginning to gather in the corners of the
room. The maid lighted the lamps without seeming to
notice my presence. Supper was announced. I wanted
to go. But the Baron added his pressing invitation to
that of the Baroness, and in so touching and sincere a
manner that I accepted and stayed.
And we sat down to supper, the three of us, as in the
old days. It was a solemn moment. We talked of all
that had happened, and Avith moist eyes asked one another
the question: ’’Who is to blame? " Nobody, destiny,
a series of incidents, paltry in themselves, a number of
forces. We shook hands, clinked our glasses together and
spoke of our undying friendship exactly as in the days gone
by. The Baroness alone kept up her spirits. She made
the programme for the following day : the meeting at the
railway station, the walks through the town, and we agreed
to everything.
At last I rose to go. The Baron accompanied us into
the drawing-room. There he laid the hand of the
Baroness into mine and said, with a choking voice
—
"’
Be her friend. My part is played out. Take care of
her, guard her from the wickedness of the world, cultivate
her talent : you are better able to do it than I, a poor
soldier. God protect you !
"
He left us ; the door closed behind him, and we were
alone.
Was he sincere at that moment? I thought so at the
time, and I should like to think so still. He was of a
sentimental nature, and, in his way, fond of us ; doubtless,
the thought of seeing the mother of his child in the hands
of an enemy would have been painful to him.
It is possible that later on, under adverse influence, he
boasted of having fooled us. But such a thing would
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