But Regina only shook her head, and turned away. She knew that she was
right, and that he knew it too, or would know it soon.
"You will never see him again," he said. "Forget that you have seen him
at all!"
Again she shook her head, not looking at him.
"You will not forget," she answered, "and I shall always remember. He
should have killed me, as he meant to do. It would have been the end. It
would have been better, and quicker."
"God forbid!"
"Why? Would it not have been better?"
She came close to him and laid one hand upon his shoulder and gazed into
his eyes. They were full of trouble and pain, and they did not lighten
for her; his brow did not relax and his lips did not part. After a
little while she turned again and went back to the fireplace.
"It would have been better," she said in a low voice. "I knew it this
morning."
There was silence in the room for a while. Marcello stood beside her,
holding her hand in his, and trying to see her face. He was very tender
with her, but there was no thrill in his touch. Something was gone that
would never come back.
"When all this trouble is over," he said at last, "you shall go back to
the little house in Trastevere, and it will be just as it was before."
She raised her head rather proudly, as she answered.
"If that could be, it would be now. You would have taken me in your arms
when he was gone, and you would have kissed my eyes and my hair, and we
should have been happy, just as it was before.
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