"Scusa me," said Girasole, "miladi, for dis accommodazion. It gifs me pain, but I promise it sall not be long. Only dis day an' dis night here. I haf to detain you dat time. Den we sall go to where I haf a home fitter for de bride. I haf a home wharra you sall be a happy bride, mees—"
"But I don't want to stay here at all in such a horrid place," said Minnie, looking around in disgust.
"Only dis day an' dis night," said Girasole, imploringly. "Aftaire you sall have all you sall wis."
"Well, at any rate, I think it's very horrid in you to shut me up here. You might let me walk outside in the woods. I'm so awfully fond of the woods."
Girasole smiled faintly.
"And so you sall have plenty of de wood—but to-morra. You wait here now. All safe—oh yes—secura—all aright—oh yes—slip to-night, an' in de mornin' early you sall be mine. Dere sall come a priest, an' we sall have de ceremony."
"Well, I think it was very unkind in you to bring me to such a horrid place. And how can I sit down? You might have had a chair. And look at poor, darling Kitty. You may be unkind to me, but you needn't make her sit on the floor. You never saved her life, and you have no right to be unkind to her."
"Unkind! Oh, mees!—my heart, my life, all arra youairs, an' I lay my life at youair foot."
"I think it would be far more kind if you would put a chair at poor Kitty's feet," retorted Minnie, with some show of temper.
"But, oh, carissima, tink—de wild wood—noting here—no, noting—not a chair—only de straw."