It was not that he resented the liberty
which his companion took in thus speaking to him. It was not, either,
that he felt indignant at the doubt cast, even hypothetically, on the
purity of his Paolina's love. It was rather the unreasoning animal
anger against the person who had given him pain. It was a stab to
his heart, this germ of a doubt thus placed there for the first time.
He was conscious of the pang, and resented it. In the next minute the
hot flush passed from his face, and he became very pale.
Bianca saw, and understood it all, as perfectly as if she could have
seen into his heart and brain.
"The doubt, you put before me, is so horrible an one that I could
almost wish it might be put to the test you speak of. But I have no
such doubt. However much your questioning may be justified by other
examples, it is not justified in the case of Paolina. I know her; I
know her heart, and the perfect truthfulness that wells up from the
depths of her honest eyes."
No amount of ready histrionism was sufficient to prevent a very
meaning, though momentary, sneer from passing over the beautiful
face of the singer as Ludovico spoke thus. But he was too much
excited by his own thoughts and words to perceive it.
"I trust that you may be right, Signor Marchese. I have no doubt
that you are right.
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