Veronica left Bianca Corleone's house with a very painful sense of disappointment, and as she drove homeward through the wet streets, she could not get rid of Gianluca's tearful blue eyes, which seemed to follow her into the carriage; and in the rattling and jolting, she heard again and again that one weak sob which had so disturbed her.

At that moment she would rather have gone directly back to the convent in Rome, to stay there for the rest of her life, than have married such an unmanly man as she believed him to be.

His words had left her cold, his face had frozen her, his tears had disgusted her.

She pitied him for his weakness, not for his love of her, and she hoped that she might never again hear any man speak to her as he had spoken.

Nevertheless there had been in his tone, at the last, the doubt-splitting accent of a sharp truth that hurt him to tears.