But I beg you to have pity on me. If you don't have an aversion to me,
or love another, marry me. I shall not do you a favour, you will do me
one. Unless I become your wife, I shall never be happy and contented
so long as I live, but always miserable whenever I think of you. As
your wife, I shall be at peace, and satisfied with myself. That you
are now ugly is of no consequence. I shall see you as you were,
before--" Here, for the first time, she hesitated, then with a sudden
transition, not without a faint smile, said:
"And it will have its good side, too, I shall not be obliged to be
jealous."
"But I shall!" exclaimed Pista, who had hitherto listened in silence.
"Nor you either, Pista," she said quickly, "for whenever I see your
face I shall say to myself how much I must make amends to you and,
believe me, it will bind me far more firmly than the handsomest
features could."
Pista was not a man of great intellect or loquacious speech. He now
threw his arms around Panna's neck, patted her, caressed her, covered
her head and her face with kisses, and burst into weeping that would
soften a stone.
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