'Giovanni! Giovanni! Do you think it costs me nothing to keep my word with God ?' But he had been disappointed too often now, and he could not believe at once.
'It costs you less than it would to keep your faith with me,' he answered.
'It is not true! Indeed, it is not true!' 'Then let the truth win, dear! All the rest is fable!' He was at her side now.

She had tried to resist, but not long, and her hand was in his, though her face was turned away.
'No--no----' she faltered, but he would not let her speak.
'All a fable of sorrow and a dream of parting, sweetheart! And now we have waked to meet again, your hand in my hand, my heart to your heart--your lips to mine----' She almost shrieked aloud in terror then and threw herself back bodily, as from the edge of a precipice.

She might have fallen if he had not still held her hand, and as she recovered herself she tried to withdraw it.

In her distress, words came that she regretted afterwards.
'Do you think that only you are human, of us two ?' she cried, in passionate protest against passion itself, against him, against life, but still twisting her wrist in his grip and trying to wrench it away.
'For the love of heaven, Giovanni----' 'No--for love of me----' She broke from him, for when he felt that he was hurting her his fingers relaxed.

But she could not stay her own words.
'Yes, I love you,' she cried almost fiercely, as she stepped backwards.