Fool, idiot!—had he lost her? A terrible misgiving overcomes him? It fills him with horror. Was it too late? Would she never forgive him? Nobili's troubled eyes, that wander all over her, ask the question.
"Speak to me—speak to me!" he cries. "Curse me—but speak to me!"
At this appeal Enrica turns her tear-bedewed face toward him.
"Nobili," she says at last, very low, "would you have gone without seeing me?"
Nobili dares not lie to her. He makes no reply.
"Oh, do not deceive me, Nobili!" and Enrica wrings her hands and looks piteously into his face. "Tell me—would you have come to me?"
It is only by a strong effort that Nobili can restrain himself from folding Enrica in his arms and in one burning kiss burying the remembrance of the miserable past. But he trembles lest by offending her the tender flower before him may never again expand to the ardor of his love. If Fra Pacifico has not by his arguments already shaken Nobili's conviction of the righteousness of his own conduct, the sight of Enrica utterly overcomes him.
"Deceive you!" he exclaims, approaching her and seizing her hands which she did not withdraw—"deceive you! How little you read my heart!"
He holds her soft hands firmly in his—he covers them with kisses. Enrica feels the tender pressure of his lips pass through her whole frame. But, can she trust him?
"Did I not love you enough?" she asks, looking into his face. She gently disengages her hands from his grasp. There is no reproach in her look, but infinite sorrow. "Can I believe you?" And the soft blue eyes rest upon him full of pathetic pleading.