“That, of course, is the ugly part of the matter. But believe me, if I had thought that you disliked me, or felt any repulsion to the thing, I would never have suggested it, or taken advantage of your position to persuade you to it. I have never done that to any woman in my life, and I have never told a woman a lie about my feeling for her. You may trust me that I am speaking the truth——”
He paused a moment, but she did not answer.
“I thought,” he went on; “that if a man is alone in the world and feels the need of—of a woman's presence about him, and if he can find a woman who is attractive to him and to whom he is not repulsive, he has a right to accept, in a grateful and friendly spirit, such pleasure as that woman is willing to give him, without entering into any closer bond. I saw no harm in the thing, provided only there is no unfairness or insult or deceit on either side. As for your having been in that relation with other men before I met you, I did not think about that. I merely thought that the connexion would be a pleasant and harmless one for both of us, and that either was free to break it as soon as it became irksome. If I was mistaken—if you have grown to look upon it differently—then——”
He paused again.
“Then?” she whispered, without looking up.
“Then I have done you a wrong, and I am very sorry. But I did not mean to do it.”
“You 'did not mean' and you 'thought'——Felice, are you made of cast iron? Have you never been in love with a woman in your life that you can't see I love you?”
A sudden thrill went through him; it was so long since anyone had said to him: “I love you.” Instantly she started up and flung her arms round him.
“Felice, come away with me! Come away from this dreadful country and all these people and their politics! What have we got to do with them? Come away, and we will be happy together. Let us go to South America, where you used to live.”
The physical horror of association startled him back into self-control; he unclasped her hands from his neck and held them in a steady grasp.