"I'm sorry, Rimbaud," he said in almost a whisper as he clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, i'm sorry! I'm sorry I couldn't treat you like the friend you were. I'm sorry I couldn't thank you for the present you gave me on my birthday. And now that you're no longer here... now I'm just so terribly sad."
Verlaine's voice trembled as he lifted his head to the heavens and closed his eyes. He kept still. For the longest time, he remained there facing the night sky.