"Ragna, you know that I love you," he insisted. "I love you, I loved you before you went to Venice! Do you not remember I told you that you would come back—to me? And you have, carissima! I think you love me too, is it not so?"
"I don't, I can't!" she answered wildly. "Oh, Signor Valentini, you don't know—I have no right to love anyone or to let anyone love me!"
"Why not, dear?" he asked and tried to take possession of her hands but she resisted him. "I love you, and I want to marry you."
"Oh, please don't, Signor Valentini! We have been such good friends, please don't spoil it!"
"We have been friends, yes, but we shall be more than friends."
"No! no! That can never be!"
"Why do you say that?"
"Oh, don't ask me! I can't! It is quite impossible; and besides I don't love you in that way."
"But I love you!"
"I tell you it is impossible."