When we rose from the table it was already
late in the evening. After having wished everybody good-bye, Silvio took
me by the hand and detained me just at the moment when I was preparing
to depart.
"I want to speak to you," he said in a low voice.
I stopped behind.
The guests had departed, and we two were left alone. Sitting down
opposite each other, we silently lit our pipes. Silvio seemed greatly
troubled; not a trace remained of his former convulsive gayety. The
intense pallor of his face, his sparkling eyes, and the thick smoke
issuing from his mouth, gave him a truly diabolical appearance. Several
minutes elapsed, and then Silvio broke the silence.
"Perhaps we shall never see each other again," said he; "before we part,
I should like to have an explanation with you. You may have observed
that I care very little for the opinion of other people, but I like you,
and I feel that it would be painful to me to leave you with a wrong
impression upon your mind."
He paused, and began to knock the ashes out of his pipe. I sat gazing
silently at the ground.
"You thought it strange," he continued, "that I did not demand
satisfaction from that drunken idiot R---.
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