"But only a shadow?"
"That is all."
"In a sense, you have forgotten him, then?"
"Yes, he has—lately become—as—as nothing to me."
"Since how long?"
She did not answer.
"Signorina," and he spoke very gently, "is it since—since that day I spoke to you first up on the hills yonder?"
She did not reply, but she knew that his question contained the truth.
"You will be my wife, signorina? Forgive me if I cannot tell you all that is in my heart. But it is the dearest wish of my life—nay more, all I hope for, all I live for, depends on your answer. Let that story be forgotten. There, it is gone for ever. Tell me that you will be my wife."
"But my promise," she said weakly.