The horse went on at full speed, arching its neck, almost dancing, the other equipage, following at a distance of sixty paces.
“I have suffered the tortures of the damned, these past days.”
“Do not tell it me. I thought I should have died of it. Do you love me?”
“Why do you ask me—you who know so much, you who know all?”
“I know not why,” replied Lucia, in her caressing tones.
“Lucia, you will drive me mad, if you speak in that voice. Shall I run away with you here, on the high-road?”
“Yes, yes, run away with me. That is what I wish, that you should run away with me.” Her eye, her lips, her little foot so close to him, all added to the provocation of her words.
“Have pity on me, my love; you see that I am dying for love of you.”
For a few minutes there was silence. He looked straight before him, biting his lips, for fear of yielding to the temptation. But it was too strong for him, he could not help looking at her. She was smiling at him with a feverish and caressing smile, her teeth gleaming between her lips.
“How dear you are! Why are you laughing?”