“Who told you I was an Italian?”
“Are you not of Corsica?”
“Tush!” said Zicci, impatiently turning away. Then, after a pause, he resumed, in a mild voice: “Glyndon, do you renounce Isabel di Pisani? Will you take three days to consider of what I have said?”
“Renounce her,—never!”
“Then you will marry her?”
“Impossible.”
“Be it so; she will then renounce you. I tell you that you have rivals.”
“Yes, the Prince di—; but I do not fear him.”
“You have another, whom you will fear more.”
“And who is he?”