"
"By the God of heaven, from whom I hope for mercy," said Henri,
solemnly, "I have freely, entirely forgiven you all cause of anger I
ever had against you."
Denot still sat with his face averted, and he withdrew his hand from
Henri's grasp, as he muttered between his teeth: "I have not asked for
forgiveness; I do not want forgiveness;" and then starting up on his
feet, he exclaimed almost with a shriek: "How dare you to talk to me,
Sir, of forgiveness? Forgiveness! I suppose you think I have nothing to
forgive! I suppose you think I have no injuries which rankle in my
breast! A broken heart is nothing! Shattered ambition is nothing! A
tortured, lingering, wretched life is nothing! I suppose you will offer
me your pity next; but know, Sir, that I despise both your forgiveness
and your pity."
"I will offer you nothing but my friendship, Adolphe," said Henri. "You
will not refuse my friendship, will you? We were brothers always, you
know; at least in affection."
"Brothers always! No, we were never brothers: we never, never can be
brothers," screamed the poor madman through his closed teeth.
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