“I love you,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Well, you are happier than I am; I love Caterina, I love Alberto; to my mind, they are adorable beings.”
“You love too many people,” he said, bitterly. He tried to take her hand, she resisted. Outside, the rain increased; the carriage rolled on noiselessly over the wet pavement of Santa Lucia.
“Mine is a large heart, Andrea.”
“You shall love me only.”
“I cannot. I love your wife and my husband, I cannot sacrifice them to you. Let us say good-bye.”
“I cannot, Lucia. I am doomed to love you, for ever. You shall be mine.”
“Never, never, never!”
“But are you not afraid of me?” he cried, red in the face, furious. “But do you think you can say all this to me with impunity? Are you not afraid that I shall kill you? Couldn’t I do so, this instant?”
“Please yourself,” she replied, calmly.