"I think," said Ferrati, "that you are overwrought and hysterical by all your self-questioning. The question, as I see it, is simple enough: in accepting you have everything to gain, in refusing everything to lose. Now the point of the matter is, do you care enough for Egidio to become his wife, or at least do you feel sure of never caring more for another man?"
"I told him that I did not love him," said Ragna, "but he said that made no difference to him, that he was content to take me, feeling merely a friendly affection for him, that he would trust to the future to bring the rest. I should do my best,—gratitude alone would make me do that. But I don't think I could ever love a man very much again."
"Perhaps," said Ferrati musingly, "that the feeling you have for him is better than love, considering the circumstances, and you may grow to love him in time; women often do grow to love the men they marry for friendship or by their parents' choice. You are of a steady, serious nature, not subject to caprice,—that is in your favour."
"Oh, I am quite sure at least I shall love no other man, I am done with love,—I have seen what it is!"
Ferrati smiled.
"You have still much to learn, Ragna, and I hope Egidio may be the man to teach it to you."
Ragna smiled in answer, rather bitterly however.
"Then your opinion is?"
"That you should marry Egidio, if you have no more serious reasons against it; I am sure that it will be best for you both—and there will be the great satisfaction to you of having provided for the future of your child,—think of the child."
"I do think of the child, and it is for its sake that I shall accept, since you think it the right thing to do."