"Bastianello, do you love me too?" she asked in a very low tone, blushing more deeply than before.
"Yes. I do. God knows it. I would not have said it, though. Ah, Teresina, you have made a traitor of me! I have betrayed my brother—and for what?"
"For me, Bastianello. But you have not betrayed him."
"Since you do not love him—" began the sailor in a tone of doubt.
"Not him, but another."
"And that other—"
"It is perhaps you, Bastianello," said Teresina, growing rather pale again.
"Me!" He could only utter the one word just then.
"Yes, you."
"My love!" Bastianello's arm went gently round her, and he whispered the words in her ear. She let him hold her so without resistance, and looked up into his face with happy eyes.