"Die?" said her beloved, in a dreamy voice, without moving or opening his eyes, as if he were wrapped in a melancholy trance.
"Yes—die—before you hate me!"
Stelio opened his eyes quickly, raised himself erect and held up one hand, as if to prevent her from saying more.
"Ah, why do you torment yourself in this way?" he said.
He saw that she was ivory pale; her hair fell in wandering wavy locks over her cheeks; she seemed consumed by some corrosive poison; her face was full of terror and misery.
"What are you doing with me? What are we both doing?" she exclaimed in anguish.
"I love you!"
"Not as I wish, not as I have dreamed; I do not wish to be loved thus."
"But you set my heart on fire, and then madness seizes me."
"It is like the madness of hatred."