He was snoring when I left." And she dismissed her fears, and looked at me again, and returned to the matter of that kiss.
"What have you done to me, Agostino ?" I dropped my glance before her languid eyes.

"What I have done to no other woman yet," I answered, a certain gloom creeping over the exultation that still thrilled me.

"O Giuliana, what have you done to me?
You have bewitched me; You have made me mad!" And I set my elbows on my knees and took my head in my hands, and sat there, overwhelmed now by the full consciousness of the irrevocable thing that I had done, a thing that must brand my soul for ever, so it seemed.
To have kissed a maid would have been ill enough for one whose aims were mine.

But to kiss a wife, to become a cicisbeo! The thing assumed in my mind proportions foolishly, extravagantly beyond its evil reality.
"You are cruel, Agostino," she whispered behind me.

She had come to lean again upon the back of the bench.