pinion; and
especially I beg you to believe that I am at all times the most obedient
of your servants,
"GIOVANNI SARACINESCA."
Of what use was it that she had that morning determined to forget
Giovanni, since he had the power of thus bringing himself before her by
means of a scrap of paper? Corona's hand closed upon the letter
convulsively, and for a moment the room seemed to swim around her.
So there was some one whom he loved, some one for whose fair name he was
willing to sacrifice himself even to the extent of marrying against his
will. Some one, too, who not only did not love him, but took no interest
whatever in him. Those were his own words, and they must be true, for he
never lied. That accounted for his accompanying Donna Tullia to the
picnic. He was going to marry her after all. To save the woman he loved
so hopelessly from the mere suspicion of being loved by him, he was going
to tie himself for life to the first who would marry him. That would
never prevent the gossips from saying that he loved this other woman as
much as ever. It could do her no great harm, since she took no interest
whatever in him. Who could she be, this cold creature, whom even Giovanni
could not move to interest? It was absurd--the letter was absurd--the
whole thing was absurd! None but a madman would think of pursuing such a
course; and why should he think it necessary to confide his plans--his
very foolish plans--to her, Corona d'Astrardente,--why? Ah, Giovanni, how
different things might have been!
Corona rose angrily from her seat and leaned against the broad
chimney-piece, and looked at the clock--it was nearly mid-day. He might
marry whom he pleased, and be welcome--what was it to her? He might marry
and sacrifice himself if he pleased--what was it to her?
She thought of her own life. She, too, had sacrificed herself; she, too,
had tied herself for life to a man she despised in her heart, and she had
done it for an object she had thought good. She looked steadily at the
clock, for she would not give way, nor bend her head and cry bitter tears
again; but the tears were in her eyes, nevertheless.
"Giovanni, you must not do it--you must not do it!" Her lips formed the
words without speaking them, and repeated the thought again and again.
Her heart beat fast and her cheeks flushed darkly. She spread out the
crumpled letter and read it once more. As she read, the most intense
curiosity seized her to know who this woman migh
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