'Forgive me, my Dino. I ought to be stronger—I meant to be stronger. I meant to help you, not to make hard things harder for you to bear. Forgive me. I will not do it any more.' She drew herself gently away from him, and he made no effort to detain her. Her voice grew steadier as she went on speaking. 'You could not do that. You could not be a traitor. Not even for us to be happy together. And it would not be happiness, Dino; there would always be a black cloud between us and happiness. It is not as if we did not know the difference between faith and falsehood, Dino. We do know.'
'I will not, so help me, God! I will not be false to you,' he said roughly.
'My Dino.'
'Italia, why cheat ourselves with words? what is faith or falsehood? what does it all matter if faith means leaving you, and falsehood your making my life a heaven? I love you: the rest is nothing. As for duty—who knows what is duty? Your father thinks it is my duty to stay with you. And another man bids me go. Why should I go? I promised; but is telling you that I loved you no promise? does it imply nothing? Do you tell me to go when I love you?'
'Yes, Dino,' said Italia simply; 'because you love me.'
She took his clenched hand in both of hers, and smoothed out the fingers with a great tenderness.
'Dear, I am not clever like you; I don't understand things. But I believe you. Dino, if it were for another man, and not for yourself, that you had to decide this thing——'
He drew away his hand, and looked away from her across the rippling sea. The breeze was freshening a little; there were long rents of darkness overhead where the fog was breaking, and showing the blue of the sky.
'Dino,' the persuasive voice went on, 'you might deceive yourself, not knowing, but you would not deceive me—your old playmate—your little sweetheart, who trusts you—trusts you against all the world. Dino, tell me. Have you the right to break this promise?'
'No,' he said in a half whisper. Then he added, 'But I would, if you told me to.'