"It is too sad." "Ah, no!" she begged.

"Read on, Agostino! I love its sadness." So I read on to the story's cruel end, and when it was done I sat quite still, myself a little moved by the tragedy of it, whilst Giuliana continued to lean against my chair.

I was moved, too, in another way; curiously and unaccountably; and I could scarcely have defined what it was that moved me.
I sought to break the spell of it, and turned the pages.

"Let me read something else," said I."Something more gay, to dispel the sadness of this." But her hand fell suddenly upon mine, enclasping and holding it.

"Ah, no!" she begged me gently.