"So you have come back to me, Zdenko? Tell me, do you still love me?" she asked in a passionate whisper, at the same time making it impossible for me to reply—
"Stop!" here interrupted the chair: "I don't quite understand how that could be?"
"I do," promptly, and succinctly interposed the prince. "Continue, prisoner, what happened next?"
I hardly know how to tell it, your highness. It was like a dream of paradise! I knew that every kiss I received and returned was deceit, robbery, sacrilege; I knew I was cheating the house which sheltered me; the master of the house who fed me; the unknown man whose name I bore—the woman—God—the devil—all—all. And yet, were you to ask me what I should do were I to be placed in the same situation again, I should reply: "Just what I did then—and if it cost me my life!"
"Hardened reprobate!" exclaimed the chair in a tone of reprimand. Then he dictated to the notary: "Adulterium cum stellionatum—"
"But," hastily interposed the prince, "he did not begin it. In this case, as in that of Father Adam: the woman was to blame. The prisoner will continue."
I know it was a great crime—I know it very well, and it oppresses my soul to this day, although I have received absolution for it. In that moment of oblivion to all things earthly, the lovely Persida whispered in my ear:
"Zdenko, if you could journey to the Holy Land for love of me you could also endure a season of purgatory for my sake, could you not?"
Without stopping to consider, I answered:
"Certainly I could!"