"I daresay you do wish I were. Flavia has done so very
well. Yes, she is Princess Saracinesca this evening, I suppose.
Indeed she has done well, for she has married the man she loves,
as much as she is capable of loving anything. And that is all the
more reason why I should do the same. Besides, am I as old as
Flavia that you should be in such a hurry to marry me? Do you
think I will yield? Do you think that while I love one man, I will
be so base as to marry another?"
"I have explained to you that love--"
"Your explanations will drive me mad! You may explain anything in
that way--and prove that Love itself does not exist. Do you think
your saying so makes it true? There is more truth in a little of
my love than in all your whole life!"
"Faustina!"
"What? May I not answer you? Must I believe you infallible when
you use arguments that would not satisfy a child? Is my whole
nature a shadow because yours cannot understand my reality?"
"If you are going to make this a question of metaphysics--"
"I am not, I do not know what metaphysic means. But I will repeat
before my mother what I said to you alone. I will not marry
Frangipani, and you cannot force me to marry him. If I marry any
one I will have the man I love."
"But, my dearest Faustina," cried the princess in genuine
distress, "this is a mere idea--a sort of madness that has seized
upon you.
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