Topándy shook his head.
"That is not sufficient reason for marrying her."
"And is faithful to me. I owe her many debts of gratitude. When I was ill, no sister could have nursed me more tenderly: if I was sad, her sorrow exceeded my own."
"That is not sufficient reason, either."
"And because I am raised above the prejudices of the world."
"Aha! magnanimity! Liberal ostentation? That is not sufficient reason either for taking Czipra to wife. The neighboring Count took his housekeeper to wife, just in order that people might speak of him: you have not even the merit of originality. Still not sufficient reason for marrying her."
"I shall take her to wife, because I love her...."
Topándy immediately softened: his usual strain of sarcastic scorn gave way to a gentler impulse.
"That's another thing. That is the only reason that can justify your marriage with her. How long have you loved her?"
"I cannot count the days. I was always pleased to see her: I always knew I loved her like a good sister. The other I worshipped as an angel: and as soon as she ceased to be an angel for me, as a mere woman I felt none of the former fire towards her: nothing remained, not even smoke nor ashes. But this girl, whose every foible I know, whose beauty was enhanced by no reverie, whom I only saw as she really is,—I love her now, as a faithful woman, who repays love in true coin: and I shall marry her—not out of gratitude, but because she has filled my heart."