Do you imagine that I would judge you harshly--severely?
I know too well all that you would say; I know the difficulties, the
impossibilities of your position. Do you think that I cannot make
allowances for all the fatalities attending on such a combination of
circumstances? And, trust me, the difference between what has been,
and what I so earnestly hope may be now, is greater,--I feel it to
be greater, not less than you can feel it to be. Truly there is
nothing in common between the all-devouring passion which consumes
me, and--such love-vows as you have spoken of. Do I not understand
the difference. And remember, Bianca, dearest, that the protection I
offer you would be the means of placing you out of the reach,--far
out of the reach of any such disgusts,--such suffering for the
future."
Bianca let her head fall on her bosom, and covered her face with her
hands, and remained silent for some moments. Then, lifting her face
slowly, and shaking her head, she sighed deeply as she looked with a
wistful earnest glance into his eyes; she said,--
"You are good,--you are,--very good and kind to me; perhaps it might
have been better for my happiness if you had been less so. But bear
with me yet a little, Signor Marchese. Sit down there,--there where
I can see your face,"--pointing, as she spoke, to a spot exactly in
face of the sofa,--"and let me see if I can explain myself to you.
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