She was weak no longer, for one desperate moment her fate had trembled in the balance, but she had not hesitated even then; she had struggled bravely, and her brave soul had won the great battle.

She had been weak the other day at the theatre, in letting herself ask the question to which she knew the answer; she had been miserably weak that very night in so abandoning herself to the influence she loved and dreaded; but at the great moment, when heaven and earth swam before her as in a wild and unreal mirage, with the voice of the man she loved ringing in her ears, speaking such words as it was an ecstasy to hear, she had been no longer weak--the reality of danger had brought forth the sincerity of her goodness, and her heart had found courage to do a great deed.

She had overcome, and she knew it.
Giovanni stood back from her, and hung his head.

In a moment the force of his passion was checked, and from the supreme verge of unspeakable and rapturous delight, he was cast suddenly into the depths of his own remorse.

He stood silent before her, trembling and awestruck.
"You cannot understand me," she said, "I do not understand myself.