"You will--I know that you will." She said nothing, and though she at first made a slight movement--not of resistance, but of timid reluctance, utterly unlike herself--she suffered him to hold her hand.

He drew closer to her, himself more diffident in the moment of success than he had ever been when he anticipated failure; she was so unlike any woman he had ever known before.

Very gently he put his arm about her, and drew her to him.
"My beloved--at last," he whispered, as her head sank upon his shoulder.
Then with a sudden movement she sprang to her height, and for one instant gazed upon him.

Her whole being was transfigured in the might of her passion: her dark face was luminously pale, her lips almost white, and from her eyes there seemed to flash a blazing fire.

For one instant she gazed upon him, and then her arms went round his neck, and she clasped him fiercely to her breast.
"Ah, Giovanni," she cried, passionately, "you do not know what love means!" A moment later her arms dropped from him; she turned and buried her face in her hands, leaning against the high stone parapet of the tower.