‘Yes, I mean it. I have loved you faithfully since we parted, as I loved you before.’
‘I do not believe you; or I do not understand what you mean by faith.’
‘It is easy to understand. Since you and I parted under the ilex-trees I have not spoken of love to any woman. I have lived a clean life.’
Something clutched at the woman’s heart just then, but the next moment she spoke as coldly as before.
‘It is easy to say such things,’ she answered.
‘What I say is true,’ returned Castiglione quietly. ‘But if I tell you this of myself, it is not because I hope to bring your love to life again. I know how dead that is. I know I killed it—yes, I know!’
He spoke with the tone and accent of a man in great pain, and looked down at his clasped hands; but Maria turned her face from him, for she felt the clutching at her heart again. He must not know that he was wrong, and that she loved him still in spite of everything. She would force herself not to believe him.
‘How well you act!’ she said, with cruel scorn.
He did not resent even that. He had violently broken and ruined her whole life long ago; why should she be kind to him?