ather of my child--you must
think of that."

"By Heaven!" exclaimed Guido, fiercely, "do I not think of it? Ay--and
I curse him for every kiss he stole from your lips!"

I listened half stupefied. Here was a new phase of the marriage law!
Husbands were thieves then--they "stole" kisses; only lovers were
honest in their embraces! Oh, my dear friend--my more than brother--how
near you were to death at that moment! Had you but seen my face peering
pallidly through the dusky leaves--could you have known the force of
the fury pent up within me--you would not have valued your life at one
baiocco!

"Why did you marry him?" he asked, after a little pause, during which
he toyed with the fair curls that floated against his breast.

She looked up with a little mutinous pout, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Why? Because I was tired of the convent, and all the stupid, solemn
ways of the nuns; also because he was rich, and I was horribly poor. I
cannot bear to be poor! Then he loved me"--here her eyes glimmered with
malicious triumph--"yes--he was mad for me--and--"

"You loved him?" demanded Guido, almost fiercely.

"Ma che!" she answered, with an expressive gesture. "I suppose I
did--for a week or two. As much as one ever loves a husband! What does
one marry for at all? For convenience--money--position--he gave me
these things, as you know."

"You will gain nothing by marrying me, then," he said, jealously.

She laughed, and laid her little white hand, glittering with rings,
lightly against his lips.

"Of course not! Besides--have I said I will marry you? You are very
agreeable as a lover--but otherwise--I am not sure! And I am free
now--I can do as I like; I want to enjoy my liberty, and--"

She was not allowed to complete her sentence, for Ferrari snatched her
close to his breast and held her there as in a vise. His face was
aflame with passion.

"Look you, Nina," he said, hoarsely, "you shall not fool me, by Heaven!
you shall not! I have endured enough at your hands, God knows! When I
saw you for the first time on the day of your marriage with that poor
fool, Fabio--I loved you, madly--ay, wickedly as I then thought, but
not for the sin of it did I repent. I knew you were woman, not angel,
and I waited my time. It came--I sought you--I told you my story of
love ere three months of wedded life had passed ever your head. I found
you willing--ready--nay, eager to hear me! You led me on; you know you
did! You tempted me