Every word was spoken for the sake of a calculated effect, for his intellect was urged into the utmost activity by the danger of the crisis. He knew that Romola’s mind would take in rapidly enough all the wide meaning of his speech. He waited and watched her in silence.
She had turned her eyes from him, and was looking on the ground, and in that way she sat for several minutes. When she spoke, her voice was quite altered,—it was quiet and cold.
“I have one thing to ask.”
“Ask anything that I can do without injuring us both, Romola.”
“That you will give me that portion of the money which belongs to my godfather, and let me pay him.”
“I must have some assurance from you, first, of the attitude you intend to take towards me.”
“Do you believe in assurances, Tito?” she said, with a tinge of returning bitterness.
“From you, I do.”
“I will do you no harm. I shall disclose nothing. I will say nothing to pain him or you. You say truly, the event is irrevocable.”
“Then I will do what you desire to-morrow morning.”