As Petitot said, that which could be done so easily and quickly could be done a second time.

If only he had not struck the lad! If only he had commanded himself, and spoken him fairly and sent him back! Almost by this time the _remedium_ might be here.

Ay, here, in the palm of his hand! The reflection stabbed Blondel so poignantly, the sense of his folly went so deep, he groaned aloud.
That groan fairly won over Baudichon, who was by nature of a kind heart.
"Tut, tut," he said; "you must not take it to heart, Messer Blondel.

Try again." "Unless, indeed," Petitot murmured, but with respect, "Messer Blondel knows the mistake to be fraught with consequences more grave than we suppose." The Fourth Syndic smiled awry: that was precisely what he did know.

But "No," he said, "the thing can be cured.