"You're going to write to him why you give it up!" he exclaimed.

"I shall make no report of espionage," I answered, with,
perhaps, some bitterness, "and I will leave the letter for you
to read and to send, of yourself. It shall only tell him that as
a man of honour I cannot keep a position for which I have no
qualification."

I was going to open the door, bidding him adieu, when he called
out to me.

"Look here!" he said, and he jumped out of bed in his pajamas
and came quickly, and held out his hand. "Look here, Ansolini,
don't take it that way. I know you've had pretty hard times, and
if you'll stay, I'll get good. I'll go to the Louvre with you
this afternoon; we'll dine at one of the Duval restaurants, and
go to that new religious tragedy afterwards. If you like, we'll
leave Paris to-morrow. There's a little too much movement here,
maybe. For God's sake, let your hair grow, and we'll go down to
Italy and study bones and ruins and delight the aged parent! --
It's all right, isn't it?"

I shook the hand of that kind Poor Jr. with a feeling in my
heart that kept me from saying how greatly I thanked him--and
I was sure that I could do anything for him in the world!



Chapter Five