Such is the selfishness of man! Where is his chivalry?
But let us return to the Arestino Palace.
The moment Manuel d’Orsini entered the apartment by means of the private door, he embraced Giulia with a fondness which was more than half affected—at least on that occasion—and she herself returned the kiss less warmly than usual—but this was because she was constrained and embarrassed by the presence of the bandit-captain, who was concealed behind the tapestry.
“You appear cool—distant, Giulia,” said Manuel, casting upon her an inquiring glance.
“And you either love me less, or you have something on your mind,” returned the countess, in a low tone.
“In the first instance you are wrong—in the second you are right, my well-beloved,” answered the marquis. “But tell me——”
“Speak lower, Manuel—we may be overheard. Some of my dependents are in the adjacent room, and——”
“And you wish me to depart as soon as possible, no doubt?” said the marquis, impatiently.
“Oh! Manuel—how can you reproach me thus?” asked Giulia, in a voice scarcely above a whisper; for that woman who dared be unfaithful to her husband revolted from the thought that a coarse-minded bandit should be in a position to overhear her conversation with her lover:—“how can you reproach me thus, Manuel?” she repeated;—“have I not given thee all the proofs of tenderest love which woman can bestow? Have I not risked everything for thee?”
“I do not reproach you, Giulia,” he replied, pressing his hand to his brow, “but I am unhappy—miserable!”