When I had so spoken, so declared my faith, and so widely severed myself from him I addressed⁠—then, at last, came a tone accordant, an echo responsive, one sweet chord of harmony in two conflicting spirits.

“Whatever say priests or controversialists,” murmured M. Emanuel, “God is good, and loves all the sincere. Believe, then, what you can; believe it as you can; one prayer, at least, we have in common; I also cry⁠—‘ O Dieu, sois appaisé envers moi qui suis pécheur! 233 ’ ”

He leaned on the back of my chair. After some thought he again spoke: