My advice to you is to try it." "Do not jest with me! You can see--you can be sure if you will but question--that I narrowly escaped the State's prison for helping you.
Spite of all, I can love no other woman but you--" She held up her closed fan and touched his lips with the feathery edging.
"You must not talk so--at least--here," she said, with her glance in contradiction to her words.

"I am happy, or contented, strictly speaking, in my home, and as soon as my husband realizes one or two of the ideas over which he is musing, happiness must be mine.

A success in art will drag him forth; he must go to Paris to be feasted in the salons and lionized in the conversaziones." And her eyes blazed as she figured herself presiding at an assemblage of artists and patrons.
"Pardon me," said the viscount-baron.

"I am afraid I add to your worry.
I see that you are pining for the sphere to which your grace and charms entice you.

I will do anything you order; but yet, since I, too, am an exile, and for your sake, pray do not ask me not to see you and speak of love." "It must be thus," she replied, with half-closed eyes, turning away abruptly, as if she feared her virtuous resolution were failing.