I have seen Lampron once more. He bears his sorrow bravely. We spoke
for a few moments of his mother. I spoke some praise of that humble soul
for the good she had done me, which led him to enlarge upon her virtues.

"Ah," he said, "if you had only seen more of her! My dear fellow, if I
am an honest man; if I have passed without failing through the trials of
my life and my profession; if I have placed my ideal beyond worldly
success; in a word, if I am worth anything in heart or brain, it is to
her I owe it. We never had been parted before; this is our first
separation, and it is the final one. I was not prepared for it."

Then he changed the subject brusquely:

"What about your love-affair?"

"Fresher than ever."

"Did it survive half an hour's conversation?"

"It grew the stronger for it."

"Does she still detest you?"

I told him the story of our trip to Desio, and our conversation in the
carriage, without omitting a detail.

He listened in silence. At the end he said:

"My dear Fabien, there must be no delay. She must hear your proposal