"My darling," he said, "you know all; I can see you know all."
The ring of happy music had quite died from her voice—he hardly recognized it.
"Yes," she answered him, "I know all."
"My darling," he cried, "it is not my fault. You will think I ought to have known it; but I swear to Heaven that I never even thought or suspected it. I would rather have been dead than have put you in a false position, Leone—you know that."
She laid her fair arms on his neck, and hid her white face on his breast.
"I am sure of it," she said, gently; "I have never thought of that: I know that you intended to make me your wife."
"So you are my wife, let who will say to the contrary—you are my beloved, revered, honored wife, Leone. Why, my darling, all the strength has left you! Look up, Leone. They have done the worst they can do, and what is it? They have parted us for a few months. When the parting is ended we shall be together for life."
She tightened the clasp of her fair arms around his neck.
"I know; I have faith in you, but it is so hard to bear, Lance. We were so happy, and you were all the world to me. How shall I live through the long months to come? Lance, perhaps you will be angry with me—I have done something that perhaps you will not like."
"That would not be possible, Leone. I must always like everything you do. Why, my darling, how you tremble! Sit down, there is nothing in all the world to fear."