“Oh, no! Monsieur, not with you.”
“With others?”
“I don’t know.”
“A woman’s answer, which means you do: give me the legitimate right to be your champion? Ah! let me be your husband and defender?”
“I am afraid that, if I marry you, you will some day regret your condescension and your love, which induces you to descend below your rank to marry an actress.”
“No, never!” cried he, in an indignant tone, “do you take me for a child—a fool, who knows not his own mind; for none but fools act without pre-consideration.”
“You have my consent then, Monsieur: may I prove worthy of you and your expectations.”
Joyously he kissed me. “Now, at last, I hope to realize my dreams of domestic happiness and love. Good night then, my pet; to-morrow I shall see you again, before I leave on my journey to the north of Italy, where business demands my presence.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“One or two weeks only: I shall hasten to rejoin you. Good night.”