“Not for long, my Nina.”
“Who can say for how long, now that the war is upon us? As far as I can see, it will be for very long. It is better that you should know it all. For myself, I think, I fear that it will be for ever.”
“For ever! why for ever?”
“Because I cannot marry an enemy of Italy. I do not think that we can ever succeed.”
“You can never succeed.”
“Then I can never be your wife. It is so, Hubert; I see that it must be so. The loss is to me, not to you.”
“No, no—no. The loss is to me,—to me.”
“You have your profession, You are a soldier. I am nothing.”
“You are all in all to me.”
“I can be nothing, I shall be nothing, unless I am your wife. Think how I must long for that which you say is so impossible. I do long for it; I shall long for it. Oh, Hubert! go and lose your cause: let our men have their Venice. Then come to me, and your country shall be my country, and your people my people.”