Let me not leave the room under the frightful conviction that he is dead!" Turchi remained silent, gazing upon her with an expression of profound sadness.
"You, too, are implacable, inexorable!" she said, rising.
"But you, at least--his uncle, his father--will be more merciful." She ran to the weeping merchant, gently forced his hands from his face, and conjured him, in piteous accents, to give her some information which would relieve the torturing suspense.
The old Deodati, still weeping, threw his arms around her neck, and murmured: "God bless you, my child, for your love.

Let us pray for him!" Mr.Van de Werve had left the room to call Petronilla.

He returned with her, and said to his daughter: "Mary, go with your duenna.

You must not remain here longer." The young girl seemed not to hear her father's words, for she was immovable as if petrified by grief.
He added, in an impatient, severe tone: "Mary, leave the room.

I wish it; I command it.