Zinida
[Takes a step forward]: No—— Tell me, Alfred, do you love her?
Bezano
[Flushes like a boy, but looks straight into Zinida's eyes. Proudly]: I do not love anybody. No, I love nobody. How can I? Consuelo? She is here to-day, gone to-morrow, if her father should take her away. And I? Who am I? An acrobat, the son of a Milanese shoemaker—— She! I cannot even talk about it. Like my horses I have no words. Who am I to love?
Zinida
Do you love me? A little?
Bezano
No. I told you before.
Zinida
Still no? Not even a little?