It is even possible that he will outlive both of us.”

“I too am almost sure of it. The occasion has shown me what resources these nervous temperaments possess. But have you thought about his moral future, Lucrezia?”

“It seems to me that that is not my responsibility. Why do you ask me that?”

“I ought not to be surprised that a nature as loyal and generous as yours should carry simplicity as far as blindness, yet it is strange that you don’t understand me.”

“Well, then, I don’t understand you. Come, speak clearly.”

“To speak clearly on so delicate a matter to someone who gives no help at all is brutal. And yet I must Well – Karol loves you.”

“I should hope so! And I love him too; but if you are trying to tell me that he is in love with me, I cannot take your fears seriously.”

“Oh, my dear Lucrezia, please don’t make light of it. Everything is serious with a character which is as deep and intense as my poor friend’s. Believe me, it is frightfully serious.”

“No, no, Salvator, you are talking nonsense. That your friend should have a serious feeling of affection for me, keen, ardent gratitude if you wish – that is possible for a being as gentle and noble as he is. But that this boy should be in love with your old friend is impossible! You see him over-excited when he speaks to us and that is the effect of his weakness and the aftermath of his previous nervous condition. You hear him thank me in terms which are not proportionate to the services I have rendered him, and that is the effect of the beautiful language which comes from a beautiful soul, from a noble habit of thinking and saying things well, and from the distinguished education and exquisite manners he has acquired. But love me? What madness! He does not know me and if he did know me, if he knew my past life, the poor boy would be afraid of me. Fire and water, heaven and earth are not more dissimilar.”

“Heaven and earth, fire and water may be opposing elements, but they are always united or ready to unite in nature. Clouds and rocks, volcanoes and seas embrace each other when they meet. They shatter and merge together in the same eternal disasters. Your comparison affirms my assertion and must explain my fears.”

“You are being poetic to no purpose. I tell you that he would despise and maybe hate me if he realised that the sister of mercy who had waited on him was a sinner. I know all about his principles and ideas from what you tell me every day – for I must admit that he himself has never preached morality to me. But after all, how can you, who know his character and opinions so well, suppose that there could be any possible relationship between us in the future? Come, I know quite well what he will think of me when he recovers his health and clarity of judgement. I hve no illusions. Six months hence, in Venice, Naples or Florence someone will relate in his presence the sad adventures which have befallen me and those even sadder which they attribute to me – for there is nothing which they don’t ascribe to the rich … Well, remember at that time what I am telling you now. You will see your friend defend me a little, sigh a great deal and then say to you, ‘How unfortunate that so good a woman, for whom I feel so much friendship and gratitude, should be vilified so!’ That is all that La Floriani will mean to this proud young man. It will be a sweet but sad memory and I do not expect anything more, for what do I need save the truth? You are fully aware, Salvator, that I have the strength to accept all the consequences of my past, that they neither perturb nor offend me, and that they in no way affect the serenity of my conscience.”

“All you say saddens me, my dear Lucrezia,” replied Salvator, taking her hand tenderly, “because it is all true, save one point. My friend will leave you, certainly. He will flee you as soon as he has the strength to do so and has seen clearly into himself. Yes, he will hear fools tell the story of your life without understanding it and cowards slandering it. And he will suffer and sigh bitterly. But that that will be all, that his grief will fade with a few words and that your memory will be effaced by an effort of reason and will-power, that I deny! At this very moment Karol is more unhappy than he has ever been, and he will be unhappy for ever, although he does not yet realise it, lost as he is in the intoxication of first love.”

“I must interrupt you at the words ‘first love’,” said Lucrezia, who had been listening attentively. “It is because you yourself have told me that I would not be his first love that I cannot be too afraid of this one, assuming, as you do, that it exists. But did you not tell me that he had been betrothed to a beautiful girl of his own station, that he had been inconsolable when she died and that he would probably never love another woman? That is what you told me earlier on and if that is true, he does not love me, or if he is capable of loving me, it is not impossible that another woman will obliterate me from his thoughts.”

“But that would mean another five or six years of suffering for him – for he was eighteen when Lucie died and until he met you he had not even looked at another woman.”

“There is no possible comparison between two such different loves.