He trembled, but restrained himself.
"You think us American women heartless, Vittorio. You will never understand us."
Worn down, he again made a vague gesture of excuse.
"On the contrary, Vittorio, I believe you will marry Livia Lante, much sooner than I shall marry an American."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"We are very poor, Livia and I. One can endure poverty when one is in love. I do not love Livia."
"Later solitude and boredom will oppress you. She is sweet and gracious. She will beautify your life."
"I could never endure poverty but on one condition, Mabel," he exclaimed suddenly, invaded by a new exaltation.
"Which?"
"With you, Mabel, with you! Ah, if only you were a poor woman with a halfpenny for a dowry, without a dress to your back, how I would dream of taking you, of carrying you away with me, to work for you, my companion, my spouse, my love, to look for work and riches for you, but with you and for you!"