She spoke defiantly, and folding her arms stared steadily at her persistent lover. The Italian, however, was not at all annoyed. He simply threw his half-smoked cigarette into the teacup, and rising from his seat stood before her smiling and bland as ever.
"Non e vero, Signora? Ebbene. I am the same. We met in San Francisco two years ago. I was a singer of opera. I obtained for you engagements. I loved you. Carissima, I love thee still! You are cold, cruel, you stone-woman, bella demonia. For long time I have been your slave. You have given me the kicks of a dog. Pazienza, I finish soon. I have told you all of myself. You have told me all of yourself. I come to this fog land with you, and now you say, 'Addio.' Bellissima, Signora, but I am not to be talked to like a child. I love you! and I marry you. Ecco! You will be Signora Ferrari. Senza dubbio!"
Having thus delivered himself of his determination with many smiles and gesticulations, Signor Ferrari bowed in his best stage manner, sat down in his chair and began to roll another cigarette. Mrs. Belswin heard him in silence, the clenching of her hands alone betraying her anger, but having had two years' experience of the Italian's character, she knew what to do, and controlling herself with an effort, began to temporise in a highly diplomatic manner.
"I suppose no woman could be indifferent to such love as you profess, Stephano, and some day I may be able to answer you as you wish--but not now, not now."
"And why, cara mia?"
"Because I am going to see my daughter again."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes! You know I told you all my past life. I was a fool to do so, as it gives you a certain hold over me. But I am a lonely--woman. Your manner was sympathetic, and so--well it's only natural I should wish to confide in some one."
"So you confided in me. Per l'amor di Dio, Signora. Do not be sorry, I am simpatica! I feel for you. Ah, Dio! It was a terrible story of your husband, and the parting in anger. Basta! Basta! Think of it no more."
"I must! Do you think I can forget the past by a simple effort of will? Happy for me, happy for all, if such a thing could be. But--I have forgotten nothing. That is my punishment!"