There were tears there, for
the love that had been, for his present pain, perhaps, but there
was not one faint spark of the fire that had burned in other days.
"I cannot say it!" she answered at last. "Oh, do not make me say
it, for the sake of all that was once!"
In his emotion Giovanni slipped from the low chair and knelt
beside his wife, one arm still around her. The shock of
disappointment, in the very moment when he thought she was
yielding, was almost more than he could bear. Had not her heart
grown wholly cold, the sight of his agonised face would have
softened her. She was profoundly moved and pitied him exceedingly,
but she could not do more.
"Giovanni--do not look at me so! If I could! If I only could--"
"Are you made of stone?" he asked, in a voice choking with pain.
"What can I do!" she cried in despair, sinking back and hiding her
face in her hands. She was in almost as great distress as he
himself.
"Love me, Corona! Only love me, ever so little! Remember that you
loved me once--"
"God knows how dearly! Could I forget it, I might love you now--"
"Oh, forget it then, beloved! Let it be undone. Let the past be
unlived. Say that you never loved me before, and let the new life
begin to-day--can you not? Will you not? It is so little I ask,
only the beginning.
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