“But think,” she protested, “what I lose.”
“I think,” said Christopher, “what the man would lose, and have a fellow-feeling for him.”
“You’re very unsympathetic,” said Sara.
“On the contrary, I am very sympathetic—towards the man, who, but for the late Duca’s will, might be wriggling, as I said before, in your silken toils.”
There was a silence.
“Christopher,” said Sara, suddenly and quite seriously, “do you think I shall ever marry again?”
“I most certainly hope you will,” replied Christopher.
“And lose Casa di Corleone and the coffers of centesimi!” she exclaimed. Then again she was back to the serious mood. “Why do you hope so, Christopher?”
For a moment Christopher was silent. Then he spoke.
“Because, my dear, I know you and your capabilities. One day you will realize the gift you have in your possession, and in giving it away you will be one of the happiest women on God’s earth.”