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Something emerged. Something invisible. Something joyful and selfish and marvelous. Something as intangible as an idea, which is exactly what it was. A wild idea.

This confused me because I felt just about the same mixture of emotions for him myself. I had thought my feelings were complicated because he and I had such a strange relationship. But then, slavery of any kind fostered such strange relationships.

Rufus came out to play hero for providing such a good meal, and the people gave him the praise he wanted. Then they made gross jokes about him behind his back. Strangely, they seemed to like him, hold in contempt, and fear him all at the same time.

In other words, he was sorry. He was always sorry. He would have been amazed, uncomprehending if I refused to forgive him. I suddenly remembered the way he used to talk to his mother. If he couldn't get what he wanted from her gently, he stopped being gentle. Why not? She always forgave him.