"What do you think of me? Do you think I'm a good man? Tell me what you think of me."
Do I think he is a good man? This is an odd question.
I smiled and leaned onto the desk. "Of course, I think you're a very good man," I said.
He puffed out a cloud of smoke and shook his head. "You thought wrong; I am not."
I furrowed my brows. "Why do you say that?"
"You only just met me; that's why you think of me that way. Everyone around here knows who and what I really am."
I leaned away from the table. "I don't understand."
"Of course, a pretty girl like you wouldn't understand."
"Make me understand. Why do you say such cruel things?"
He smiled. "I realized something recently."
"What is it?"
He took two puffs from his cigarette. "When I saw my daughter in the ward, when she almost died, it got me thinking about my late wife."
"I still don't understand you, Beta," I frowned.
"Can you keep a secret? Can you promise not to tell your aunt what I'm about to tell you?"
