"
"I understand you too well."
Orsino made her stop and took both her hands, looking down into her
eyes.
"You will marry me," he said.
"I cannot marry you," she answered.
Her face grew even paler than it had been when they had stood at the
window, and so full of pain and sadness that it hurt Orsino to look at
it. But the words she spoke, in her clear, distinct tones, struck him
like a blow unawares. He knew that she loved him, for her love was in
every look and gesture, without attempt at concealment. He believed her
to be a good woman. He was certain that her husband was dead. He could
not understand, and he grew suddenly angry. An older man would have done
worse, or a man less in earnest.
"You must have a reason to give me--and a good one," he said gravely.
"I have."
She turned slowly away and began to walk alone. He followed her.
"You must tell it," he said.
"Tell it? Yes, I will tell it to you. It is a solemn promise before God,
given to a man who died in my arms--to my husband.
Pages:
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545