You do trust me, non e vero? I must put off this
marriage; then find means to break it. And, after all, what can my
uncle do? I am dependent on him while he lives; but I must succeed
to all he has when he dies. My promised wife! Are you mine--mine for
ever? Will you now put your dear little hand in mine, and promise
me, and have faith in me, and wait for me, and have patience till I
can see my way, and love me all the time, my own--my darling?"
"I am your own, Ludovico;--yours, any way: to live for you, if such
a lot may be mine; to die still yours, if it may not! Wait!
Patience! What shall tire my patience? So I know that you are loving
me--me only--all the time, I shall ask nothing more! But, oh, I am
so frightened! And then I shall be a cause of such mischief and
trouble to you. Would it not have been better for you if you had
never seen poor Paolina?"
"No, no, no, no! It would have been a thousand million times worse
for me! Be of good heart, my treasure; nothing can hurt you. We must
keep our secret for a while; and nothing will hurt me, if we manage
well. But I must think; my mind is in a confusion;--a joyful
confusion, dearest! But I must think it all over. If you see me less
often, be sure that it is because I am planning for our happiness.
And now, darling,--my own, my own, now really and for ever, my own--
one kiss to seal our contract! You won't refuse me that.
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