A dozen times did the artless girl satisfy herself with saying inwardly,
"he knows me and will believe the best," and as often did her feelings
prompt her to tell the truth. Suspense is far more painful, at such
moments, than even vindication, which, in itself, is a humiliating duty
to the virtuous. Pretending a desire to breathe the air, she left her
cousin in the canopy. Annina was not sorry to be alone, for she had need
to reflect on all the windings of the sinuous path on which she had
entered.
Gelsomina succeeded in passing the pavilion, and in gaining the side of
the gondolier.
"Carlo!"--she said, observing that he continued to row in silence.
"Gelsomina!"
"Thou hast not questioned me!"
"I know thy treacherous cousin, and can believe thou art her dupe. The
moment to learn the truth will come."
"Thou didst not know me, Carlo, when I called thee from the bridge?"
"I did not. Any fare that would occupy my time was welcome."
"Why dost thou call Annina treacherous?"
"Because Venice does not hold a more wily heart, or a falser tongue."
Gelsomina remembered the warning of Donna Florinda. Possessed of the
advantage of blood, and that reliance which the inexperienced always
place in the integrity of their friends, until exposure comes to destroy
the illusion, Annina had found it easy to persuade her cousin of the
unworthiness of her guests. But here was one who had all her sympathies,
who openly denounced Annina herself.
Pages:
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437