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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Sant' Ilario"


"Yes, I will."
"Thank you. That is right."
"It is the least I can do."
Giovanni felt that words were of very little use, and even had he
wished to say more he would not have known how to speak. There was
that between them which was too deep for all expression, and he
knew that henceforth he could only hope to bring back Corona's
love by his own actions. Besides, in her present state, he guessed
that it would be wiser to leave her, than to prolong the
interview.
"I will go now," he said. "You must rest, darling, and be quite
well to-morrow."
"Yes. I can rest now."
She said nothing about seeing him again. With a humility almost
pathetic in such a man, he bent down and touched her hand with his
lips. Then he would have gone away, but she held his fingers and
looked long into his eyes.
"I am sorry for you, dear," she said, and paused, not taking her
eyes from his. "Kiss me," she added at last, with a faint smile.
A moment later, he was gone. She gazed long at the door through
which he had left the room, and her expression changed more than
once, softening and hardening again as the thoughts chased each
other through her tired brain. At last she closed her eyes, and
presently fell into a peaceful sleep.
Giovanni waited in his room until his father was awake and then
went to tell him what had happened.


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