Anything else?"
"He said I was a chameleon."
"A chameleon!"
"A chameleon that needed the influence of a good woman. Then he gave me
this box of Cuban chocolates, to keep me from crying, I suppose. Have
one! They're not nearly as nasty as they look."
"Thanks. A chameleon. That is really interesting, as Keith would say. I
have seen thousands of them. Outlandish beasts, that anchor themselves
by their tails and squint horribly. Let's have a look at you, Denis.
No, I fail to detect any striking resemblance."
"I believe he meant that I take on the colour of other people and have
none of my own. Then he told me to go and murder somebody."
"I wouldn't do that, Denis," laughed the bishop. "Murders are so
dreadfully vulgar."
"He said it might make a man of me. He forgets that I'm not quite his
age."
"You had better not tell him that! Any other advice?"
"Nothing new. He said I made a mistake in paying attention to what
human beings said and did, and that I ought to forsake mankind for a
while, and art and books and so on.
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