[The Children of the King by F. Marion Crawford]@TWC D-Link bookThe Children of the King CHAPTER VII 8/31
She asked herself how it could be possible, if San Miniato loved her as he had said he did, that he should not feel as she felt and understand love as she did--as something secret and sacred, to be kept from other eyes.
Her instinct told her easily enough that San Miniato was at that very moment telling her mother all that had taken place, and she bitterly resented the thought.
It would surely have been enough, if he had waited until the following day and then formally asked her hand of the Marchesa.
It would have been better, more natural in every way, just now when they had gone up to the table, if he had said simply that they loved one another and had asked her mother's blessing. Anything rather than to feel that he was coolly describing the details of the first love scene in her life--the thousandth, perhaps, in his own. After all, did she love him? Did he really love her? His passionate manner when he had seized her hand had moved her strangely, and she had listened with a sort of girlish wonder to his declarations of devotion afterwards.
But now, in the, calm moonlight and quite alone, she could hear Ruggiero's deep strong voice in her ears, and the few manly words he had uttered.
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