She is suspected; she is accused; she is branded; there is no general faith in her; yet she will hold the torch to-morrow night:--and what ensues?
Some will move, some turn back, some run headlong over to treachery, some hang irresolute all are for the shambles! The blood is on her head.' 'I will excuse myself to you another time,' said Vittoria.

'I love you, Signora Laura.' 'You do, you do, or you would not think of excusing yourself to me,' said Laura.

'But now, go.

You have cut me in two.

Carlo Ammiani may succeed where I have failed, and I have used every weapon; enough to make a mean creature hate me for life and kiss me with transports.