n Diego also went out on some business, I found
myself alone with the girl. I took the opportunity of telling her that if
she willed I would be hers, as I adored her, but that I could not sigh
for long.

"What can you ask, and what can I offer, since I must keep myself pure
for my husband?"

"You should abandon yourself to me without reserve, and you may be sure
that I should respect your innocence."

I then proceeded to deliver a gentle attack, which she repulsed, with a
serious face. I stopped directly, telling her that she would find me
polite and respectful, but not in the least affectionate, for the rest of
the evening.

Her face had blushed a vivid scarlet, and she replied that her sense of
duty obliged her to repulse me in spite of herself.

I liked this metaphysical line of argument. I saw that I had only to
destroy the idea of duty in her and all the rest would follow. What I had
to do was to enter into an argument, and to bear away the prize directly
I saw her at a loss for an answer.

"If your duty," I began, "forces you to repulse me in spite of yourself,
your duty is a burden on you. If it is a burden on you, it is your enemy,
and if it is your enemy why do you suffer it thus lightly to gain the
victory? If you were your own friend, you would at once expel this
insolent enemy from your coasts."

"That may not be."

"Yes, it may. Only shut your eyes."

"Like that?"

"Yes."

I immediately laid hands on a tender place; she repulsed me, but more
gently and not so seriously as before.

"You may, of course, seduce me," she said, "but if you really love me you
will spare me the shame."

"Dearest Ignazia, there is no shame in a girl giving herself up to the
man she loves. Love justifies all things. If you do not love me I ask
nothing of you."

"But how shall I convince you that I am actuated by love and not by
complaisance?"

"Leave me to do what I like, and my self-esteem will help me to believe
you."

"But as I cannot be certain that you will believe me, my duty plainly
points to a refusal."

"Very good, but you will make me sad and cold."

"Then I shall be sad, too."

At these encouraging words I embraced her, and obtained some solid
favours with one hardy hand. She made no opposition, and I was well
pleased with what I had got; and for a first attempt I could not well
expect more.

At this juncture the mother came in with the dominos and gloves. I
refused to accept the change, and