The fury which had
at first possessed him, and which, if he had then encountered
Gouache, would certainly have produced a violent outbreak, had
subsided and was lost in the certainty of his dishonour, and in
the immensity of the pain he suffered. Nothing remained to be done
but to tell Corona that he knew all, and to inflict upon her the
consequences of her crime without delay. There was absolutely no
hope left that she might prove herself innocent, and in Giovanni's
own breast there was no hope either, no hope of ever finding again
his lost happiness, or of ever again setting one stone upon
another of all that splendid fabric of his life which he had built
up so confidently upon the faith of the woman he loved.
As he reached the gates of his home he grew if possible paler than
before, till his face was positively ghastly to see, and his eyes
seemed to sink deeper beneath his brows, while their concentrated
light gleamed more fiercely. No one saw him enter, for the porter
was in his lodge, and on reaching the landing of the stairs
Giovanni let himself into the apartments with a latch-key.
Corona was in her dressing-room, a high vaulted chamber, somewhat
sombrely furnished, but made cheerful by a fire that blazed
brightly in the deep old-fashioned chimney-piece.
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