The Pope's head sank on his breast; the Capuchin looked steadfastly at Roma.
When the Pope walked in his garden that afternoon as usual, the old Capuchin was with him.
Once or twice the Capuchin said, "And how did you find my young penitent this morning?"
The Capuchin took snuff and answered, "Your Holiness is always so good as to say so."
The Capuchin pushed his handkerchief into his sleeve and dropped back into his seat.
The Capuchin did not reply, and the two old men walked on in silence.
"Yes," said Roma, and the Capuchin dropped back in his seat as if he had been dealt a blow.
"Courage," the Capuchin tried to say, but his quivering lips emitted no sound.
He caught the faint gleam of the Capuchin's eyes in the gloom.
He might as well have said that a Capuchin created the heavens and the earth.
