"I would trust myself to any woman, even though the Duke offered her great rewards, aye, as readily as I put faith in Lucia herself, or in you."
"You couple me with her?"
"In that matter most readily," said Antonio.
"But in nothing else?" she asked, flushing again in anger, for still his eyes were distant, and he turned them never on her.
"You must pardon me," he said. "My eyes are blinded."
For a moment she sat silent; then she said in a low voice, "But blind eyes have learned to see before now, my lord."
Then Antonio set his eyes on her; and now she could not meet them, but turned her burning face away. For her soul was in tumult, and she knew not now whether she loved or hated him, nor whether she would save or still betray him. And the trust he had in her gnawed her guilty heart. So that a sudden passion seized her, and she caught Antonio by the arm, crying, "But if a woman held your life in her hand and asked your love as its price, Antonio?"
"Such a thing could not be," said he, wondering.
"Nay, but it might. And if it were?"
And Antonio, marvelling more and more at her vehemence, answered, "Love is dear, and honour is dear; but we of Monte Velluto hold life of no great price."