"You will not go with me, you will not even attempt it," she said.
It would have been difficult to guess from her face at that moment that she loved him. Her face was pale and the expression was almost hard. She held her head high as though she were looking down at him, though he towered above her from his shoulders.
"You do not understand me," he answered, quietly. "When I say that I will go with you, I mean that I will go."
"Is this a trial of strength?" she asked after a moment's pause.
"If it is, I am not conscious of it. It costs me no effort to go—it would cost me much to stay behind—too much."
He stood quite still before her, looking steadily into her eyes. There was a short silence, and then she suddenly looked down, moved and turned away, beginning to walk slowly about. The room was large, and he paced the floor beside her, looking down at her bent head.
"Will you stay if I ask you to?"
The question came in a lower and softer tone than she had used before.
"I will go with you," answered Orsino as firmly as ever.
"Will you do nothing for my asking?"