But I have something for which to ask your forgiveness before I die." "My forgiveness ?" Uncle Richard thought he was wandering, and looked up.
"Yes," said the Consul, as what was almost a smile passed over the half-stiffened features.

"I have made a fool of you.

Your account does not exist.

It was only a joke.

Are you angry with me ?" How could he possibly be angry?
He laid his face down again on the withered hand, and as he lay there in his sorrow, with his curly head buried in the pillows, he looked almost like a great shaggy Newfoundland.
The doctor came into the room.
"I really cannot permit your brother to lie so close to you--it will interfere with your breathing; and if you don't wish--" "My brother," said the young Consul, interrupting him in a voice which bore some resemblance to his business voice.