for the idiots who come to Renaud's to make them happy. I play it for me, for Nicolas."
I didn't want to hear any more. It was time to go to bed. But I was bruised by this little talk and he knew it, and as I started to pull off my boots, he got up from the chair and came and sat next to me.
"I'm sorry," he said in the most broken voice. It was so changed from the posture of a minute ago that I looked up at him, and he was so young and so miserable that I couldn't help putting my arm around him and telling him that he must not worry about it anymore.
"You have a radiance in you, Artemis," he said. "And it draws everyone to you. It's there even when you're angry, or discouraged."
"Poetry," I said. "We're both tired."
"No, it's true," he said. "You have a light in you that's almost blin
