She was listening, her eyes fixed on the distance, her mind wide open to the new experience of life which had come so unexpectedly.
"He cannot be compared with Gianluca," continued Taquisara, modifying his sentence and omitting whatever simile had presented itself in his thoughts.

"If you knew Gianluca, you would understand.

It is because I know him well that I speak for him, that I implore you, pray you, beseech you, to see him before you consent to marry Count Bosio--" "To see him!" exclaimed Veronica, startled at the sudden proposition, which was a blow to every tradition she had ever learned.
But the Sicilian was not a man to hesitate at trifles where women were concerned, nor men either.
"Yes--to see him!" he answered with a certain vehemence.

"Is it a sin?
Is it a crime?
Is it dishonourable?
Why should you cry out?
What is society that it should take you young girls by the throat, like martyrs, and chain you with proprieties to the stake of its rigid law--to be burnt to death afterwards by slow fire, like your best friend there, Donna Bianca?
Ah--you understand that.

You know her life, and I know it too.