You shall be the garden and I shall be the wall; you the nest and I the rock; you the breath of life and I the body that breathes it.

Guida, my Guida, I love you!" She drew back, leaning against the stones, her eyes riveted upon his, and she spoke scarcely above a whisper.
"It is not true--it is not true.

You've known me only for one day--only for one hour.

How can you say it!" There was a tumult in her breast; her eyes shone and glistened; wonder, embarrassed yet happy wonder, looked at him from her face, which was touched with an appealing, as of the heart that dares not believe and yet must believe or suffer.
"It is madness," she added.

"It is not true--how can it be true!" Yet it all had the look of reality--the voice had the right ring, the face had truth, the bearing was gallant; the force and power of the man overwhelmed her.
She reached out her hand tremblingly as though to push him back.