"Mine?"
"Yes; from this time."
Now stirred his better nature: though not before had he sceptically touched her lips and found them cold, as if the fire had been taken out of them by what they had uttered. He felt that it was no animal love, but the force of a soul drawn to him; and, forgetting the hypocritical foundation he had laid, he said: "How proud I shall be of you!"
"I shall go with you to battle," returned Emilia.
"My little darling! You won't care to see those black fellows killed, will you?"
Emilia shuddered. "No; poor things! Why do you hurt them? Kill wicked people, tyrant white-coats! And we will not talk of killing now. Proud of me? If I can make you!"
"You sigh so heavily!"
"Something makes me feel like a little beggar."
"When I tell you I love you?"
"Yes; but I only feel rich when I am giving; and I seem to have nothing to give now:—now that I have lost Italy!"