I will make it grow till it shall fill your
heart. Sweet love, dear love! love me but enough to say it--"
"Do you think I would not, if I could? Ah, I would give my whole
life to bring back what is gone, but I cannot. It is dead. You--
no, not you--some evil thing has killed it. Say it? Yes, dear, I
would say it--I will say it if you bid me. Giovanni, I love you--
yes, those are the words. Do they mean anything? Can I make them
sound true? Can I make the dead alive again? Is it anything but
the breath of my lips? Oh, Giovanni, my lost love, why are you not
Giovanni still?"
Again his arms went round her and he pressed her passionately to
his heart. She turned pale, and though she tried to hide it, she
shrank from his embrace, while her lips quivered and the tears of
pain started in her eyes. She suffered horribly, in a way she had
never dreamed of as possible. He saw what she felt and let her
fall back upon the cushions, while he still knelt beside her. He
saw that his mere touch was repugnant to her, and yet he could not
leave her. He saw how bravely she struggled to bear his kisses,
and how revolting they were to her, and yet the magic of her
beauty held his passionate nature under a spell, while the lofty
dignity of her spirit enthralled his soul.
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