XIII

"MY DEAR DAVID ROSSI,--All day long I've been carrying your

letter round like a reliquary, taking a peep at it in cabs, and

even, when I dare, in omnibuses and the streets.

"What you say about Bruno has put me in a fever, and I have

written to the Director-General for permission to visit the

prison. Even Lawyer Napoleon is of opinion that Bruno is being

made a victim of that secret inquisition. No Holy Inquisition was

ever more unscrupulous. Lawyer N. says the authorities in Italy

have inherited the traditions of a bad régime. To do evil to

prevent others from doing it is horrible. But in this case it is

doing evil to prevent others from doing good. I am satisfied that

Bruno is being tempted to betray you. If I could only take his

place! Would their plots have any effect upon me? I should die

first.

"And now about my friend. I can hardly hold my pen when I write of

her. What you say is so good, so noble. I might have known what

you would think, and yet....

"Dearest, how can I go on? Can't you divine what I wish to tell

you? Your letter compels me to confess. Come what may, I can hold

off no longer. Didn't you guess who my poor friend was? I thought

you would remember our former correspondence when you pretended to

love somebody else. You haven't thought of it apparently, and that

is only another proof--a bitter sweet one this time--of your love

and trust. You put me so high that you never imagined that I could

be speaking of myself. I was, and my poor friend is my poor self.

"It has made me suffer all along to see what a pedestal of purity

you placed me on. The letters you wrote before you told me you

loved me, when you were holding off, made me ashamed because I

knew I was not worthy. More than once when you spoke of me as so

good, I couldn't look into your eyes. I felt an impulse to cry,

'No, no, no,' and to smirch the picture you were painting. Yet how

could I do it? What woman who loves a man can break the idol in

his heart? She can only struggle to lift herself up to it. That

was what I tried to do, and it is not my fault that it is not

done.

"I have been much to blame. There were moments when duty should

have made me speak. One such moment was before we married. Do you

remember that I tried to tell you something? You were kind, and

you would not listen. 'The past is past,' you said, and I was only

too happy to gloss it over. You didn't know what I wished to say,

or you would not have silenced me. I knew, and I have suffered

ever since. I had to speak, and you see how I have spoken. And

now I feel as if I had tricked you. I have got you to commit

yourself to opinions and to a line of conduct. Forgive me! I will

not hold you to anything. Take it all back, and I shall have no

right to complain.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024