On her physiognomy appeared all the tokens of alarm; her lips became white and perspiration came as pearls at the root of her hair.
"Where am I?" she asked as he said nothing.
"As you know where you came from, you can readily guess where you are," he responded.
"You are right in reminding me; I do, indeed, remember. I know that I have been pursued by you, and torn from the arms of the royal intermediary whom I chose between heaven and you."
"Then you ought to know that this princess has been unable to defend you, however powerful she may be."
"You have overruled her by some witching violence," said Lorenza, wringing her hands, "Oh, saints of mercy, deliver me from this demon!"
"Where do you see anything demoniacal in me," returned Balsamo, shrugging his shoulders. "Once for all I beg you to lay aside this pack of puerile beliefs brought from Rome, and all the rubbish of absurd superstitions which you have carted about with you since you ran away from the nunnery."
"Oh, my dear nunnery—who will restore me to my dear nunnery?" cried the Italian, bursting into tears.
"Indeed, a nunnery is much to be deplored," said Balsamo.