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Updated: June 20, 2025
He, Nobili, was it possible? Forgotten her! A pale plaintive face rose up before him, with soft, pleading eyes. There was the little head, with its tangled meshes of yellow curls, the slight girlish figure, the little feet. "Enrica! my Enrica!" he cried aloud, so palpable did her presence seem "I love you, I love you only!" He dashed, as it were, Nera's image from him.
"Count Nobili" Nera's tempting looks spoke more than words "come and sit down by me." She signed to him to place himself upon the sofa. Nobili rose as she bade him. He came upon his fate without a word. Seated so near to Nera, he gazed into her starry eyes, and felt it did him good.
"What reason do you give for this?" he asked, trying to master his feelings. "I came to ask you this." "Reason, my dear count?" and a smile parted Nera's lips. "A very obvious reason. Why force me to name it? No one can respect you if you make such a marriage. You will be always liked you are so charming." She paused to fling an amorous glance upon him. "Why did you select the Guinigi girl?"
And Nobili had listened to Nera's cruel words, and had not risen up and torn out the lying tongue that uttered them! He had sat and heard Enrica torn to pieces as a panting dove is severed by a hawk limb by limb! Even now Nobili's better nature, spite of the glamour of this woman, told him he was a coward to listen to such words, but his good angel had veiled her wings and fled.
Again he lifts Nera tenderly in his arms. For that night Nera belongs to him; no one else shall touch her. He bears her down-stairs to a carriage. Then he disappears into the darkness of the night. No one will leave the ball until there is some report of Nera's condition from the doctor who has been summoned. The gay groups sit around the glittering ballroom, and whisper to each other.
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