His nervous fingers played with the teaspoon in the saucer of his cup.
It was a strange confession, there in the corner of the crowded cafe at midday, and those who glanced idly at the two men from a distance would hardly have guessed that an act in a mysterious life was before their eyes--an act which was itself but a verbal recapitulation of many actions past, but which to the speaker had an enormous importance of its own, and an influence on the future of all concerned.
Not much had been needed to break through the barrier of Bosio's reticence.

Walking through the streets that morning he had for a moment even thought of telling some of his story to Taquisara.

It was far easier to tell it to the only true friend he had in the world, to one in whom he had confided as a boy and had trusted as a young man.

He told almost all.

He confessed that his love of many years had been his brother's wife, and though he spoke no word of her love for him, the old priest knew the evil truth from the man's tone and look.