"He loves me? this cannot be."
"Say that it is impossible you should love me, but not that I should love you."
She lowered her gaze on the speaker to see if he spoke truly and his eyes said more than his tongue: though she might doubt the words she could not the glance.
"Oh, God, in all the world is there a being more unfortunate than me?" she cried.
"Andrea, tell me that you love me," continued Charny, "or at least that you do not hate me?"
"I, hate you?" she said, with a double flash from the calm eyes usually so limpid and serene. "Oh, my lord, it would be very wrong to take for hate the feeling you inspire."
"But if not hate or love, what is it?"
"It is not love because I am not allowed to love you; but did you not hear me call myself the unhappiest of God's creatures?"
"Why are you not allowed to love me when I love you with all the strength of my soul?"