“When will it come?”
“I don’t know.”
“And will you keep it secret always?”
“Perhaps not.”
“You speak undecidedly.”
“I am undecided.”
“Why not decide now to tell it?” pleaded Beatrice. “Why should I not know it? Surely I have gone through enough suffering to bear this, even if it bring something additional.”
Langhetti looked at her long and doubtfully.
“You hesitate,” said she.
“Yes.”