“Kissing is your refrain; kiss me if you will.”
She threw back her veil and let him kiss her cold, closed lips. He turned away from her, mortified.
“You are passionless; you do not care for me,” he said.
“But do you not realise, unhappy man, that I can never be yours? Do you not realise that in being yours I should attain the utmost joy? but that I deny myself? Do you not realise my renunciation of youth, passion, life? Oh! unfortunate, who can torment me because you cannot realise....”
“I admire you, Lucia, there is no other woman like you, and I do not deserve you.”
The driver stopped, they had arrived at Posilipo, on the road that leads between the villas on the heights and those that slope down to the sea.
“Via di Bagnoli,” cried Andrea from the window.
“Whither are you taking me, Andrea?”
“Far....”
“No; I must return to town. Alberto is awaiting me.”