Cecily burst into a loud fit of laughter.
"No, no, it is too much to suffer! Oh, if I were not afraid of death!" said the notary, gloomily. "But to die is to renounce you altogether, and you are so beautiful! I would rather, then, suffer—and look at you."
"Look at me? Why, that's what the wicket was made for; and so we can thus chat, like two friends in our solitude, which really is not irksome to me, you are such a good master! What a dangerous confession I make through the door!"
"Will you never open this door? You see how submissive I am; this evening I might have tried to enter into your chamber with you, but I did not do so."
"You are submissive for two reasons: in the first place, because you know that, having, from the necessity of my wandering life, always had the precaution to carry a stiletto, I can manage with a strong hand this inestimable jewel, whose tooth is sharper than a viper's; and you know, too, that, from the day in which I have to complain of you, I will quit this roof for ever, leaving you a thousand times more enamoured than ever,—since you have so greatly honoured your unworthy servant as to say that you are enamoured of her."
"My servant? It is I who am your slave,—your mocked, derided, despised slave!"
"That's true enough."
"And yet it does not move you?"
"It amuses me; the days, and especially the nights, are so long!"
"Accursed creature!"