“We cannot recover the past,” said she, interrupting my thoughts; “no, no, no! But for the present—say again—tell me again that you love me!”
“Love you!—yes, lady—”
“And I have your heart, your whole heart?”
“Never—can I love another!”
“Thanks! thanks!”
“No more than thanks, Isolina?”
For some moments she remained silent, her eyes averted from me; she appeared struggling with some emotion.
“Yes, more than thanks,” she replied at length; “gratitude! three things more—if they will suffice to prove my gratitude.”
“Name them!”
“Why should prudery tie my tongue? I promised to be candid. I, too, came here to make confession. Listen! Three things I have said. Look around you!—north, south, east, and west—the land you see is mine; be it yours, if you will.”