"Oh, for me nothing can go well or ill, Sabini."
This he said with such an accent of indifference, of detachment, that it amounted more to sadness. After a slight hesitation Lucio resumed:
"Vittorio, you were ardently in love with that American girl."
"Ardently is the word," agreed Vittorio Lante, in a rather louder voice.
"How did you let her escape you?"
"I gave her up."
"Although you loved her?"
"Yes, although I adored her, I gave her up."
"But why?"
"So as not to be dishonoured, Lucio. Had I married her I should have been dishonoured."