“True, true, I’m coming. I’ll hear you presently, Adina. Coming, Gianetta, coming.”
Scene—a despairing little woman pressing her little hands one within the other. And whether anybody is there she cares not, as she says in a whisper, “I love him, I do love him.”
Says Doctor Dulcamara. “Can—I—DO believe my senses. Ah, ah! I’m a gold mine. I’m a Crœsus!”
“Ah, ah, ah!” cried a quick, sharp voice, the personal property of Gianetta in fact. And as she went off to the dance, audacious with Nemorino. “Ah, ah, ah, she thinks she’s to have the homage of all the men in the village, but she WONT.”
“She” heard the remark, but it did not make her angry.
“How cruel, how cruel!”
“Ah! all my doings.”
“Yours, doctor.”
“Yes, I have Queen Isotta’s love secret!”
“Queen—n—Isotta’s! I won’t believe it. And you gave it to Nemorino!”