"It is probably true enough that you were a great sinner, but it is not
true that you withdrew from the world. You are neither in it nor out of
it."
He took his pinch of snuff with a loud noise, and went on:
"Neither in it nor out of it!"
Benedetto looked at him without answering. In those eyes there was
something so serious and so sweet, that the Abbot lowered his to the
open snuff-box, once more dipping his fingers into it and toying with
the snuff.
"I do not understand you," he said.
"You are of the world, and still you are not of it. You are in the
monastery, and still you are not in the monastery. I fear your head
serves you no better than your great-grandfather's, your grandfather's,
and your father's served them. Fine heads, those!"
Benedetto's ivory face flushed slightly.
"They are souls with God," he said, "better than we are, and your words
offend against one of God's commandments."
"Silence!" the Abbot exclaimed. "You say you have renounced the world,
and you are full of worldly pride. If you really wished to renounce the
world, you should have tried to become a novice! Why did you not attempt
this? You wished to come here _in villeggiatura_, for an outing, that is
the truth of the matter.
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