“What a letter it is! Her name, and nothing more.”
“It is very strange.”
“Yes, but the name tells all.”
“She told me that if I wanted to be happy I should always remain with you. I said I knew that well; but that you wanted to send me back to Venice, though you were very fond of me. I can guess now that you were lovers. How long ago was it?”
“Sixteen or seventeen years.”
“She must have been very young, but she cannot have been prettier than she is now.”
“Be quiet, Marcoline.”
“Did your union with her last long?”
“We lived together four months in perfect happiness.”
“I shall not be happy for so long as that.”