There's no use in
asking such things, you cannot dictate to Love. I do not like you as you
want me to, because it is impossible. Be satisfied to be my best friend.
You know I show a confidence in you that I do not show to Monteverde.
Yes, I tell you things I would never tell him."
"But the other part!" exclaimed the painter violently. "What I need,
what I am hungry for,--you, your beauty, real love!"
"Master, contain yourself," she said with affected modesty. "How well I
know you! You're going to say some of those horrid things that men
always say when they rave over a woman. I'm going away so as not to hear
you."
Then she added with maternal seriousness, as if she wanted to reprimand
his violence:
"I am not so crazy as people think. I consider the consequences of my
actions carefully. Mariano, look at yourself, think of your position. A
wife, a daughter who will marry one of these days, the prospect of being
a grandfather. And you still think of such follies! I could not accede
to your proposal even if I loved you. How terrible! To deceive
Josephina, the friend of my school-days! Poor thing, so gentle, so
kind,--always ill. No, Mariano, never. A man cannot enter such
compromising affairs, unless he is free. I could never feel like loving
you. Friends, nothing more than friends!"
"Well, we will not be that," exclaimed Renovales impetuously. "I will
leave your house forever. I will not see you any longer. I will do
anything to forget you.
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