"Come in. Close the door."
When Benedetto had entered the Abbot appeared to forget him. He put on
his glasses and began turning over the leaves of a book and glancing
through the papers on his desk. In an attitude of soldierly respect,
holding himself very erect, Benedetto stood, waiting for him to speak.
"Maironi of Brescia?" said the Abbot, in the same unfriendly tone as
before, and without turning round.
Having received an answer he continued to turn the pages and read.
Finally he removed his glasses and turned round.
"What did you come here to Santa Scolastica for?" said he.
"I was a great sinner," Benedetto answered, "God called me to withdraw
from the world, and I withdrew from It."
The Abbot was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed upon the young man,
and then he said with ironical gentleness:
"No, my friend!"
He took out his snuff-box, shook it, repeating "No, no, no," rapidly and
almost under his breath; he examined the snuff, dipped his fingers into
it, raised his eyes once more to Benedetto's face, and, emphasising each
word, said:
"That is not true!"
Grasping the pinch with his thumb, his forefinger, and his middle
finger, he raised his hand swiftly, as though about to throw the snuff
into the air, and, with his arm suspended, continued to speak.
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