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face and said: “Yes, perhaps you are right.”
And I stood dumb like a post, staring! and a bitter feeling rent my breast and tore my heart, and tears stood in my eyes. Slowly she turned towards me, looked up at me without anger, and gave me her hand.
“But let me tell you,” she said, “I must tell you that never, never, will I forgive you. Do you hear? We are enemies! Yet I will give you my hand because I wish you to become a man.”
“Now I am tired,” she spoke to the young man, and I went out.
VII.
She died very soon afterwards. When they buried her I did not know, for the inspector called me away. But the next day I met this convict; as I approached him I looked him in the face. Good gracious! how changed he was! He was
