'You weep for _him_?' he added in the same pitiless tone.
'For him, for you, and for myself, alas! alas!'
The subdued anguish of her voice did not touch Basil. He burned with
hatred of her and of the dead man.
'Shed no tears for me. I am cured of a long folly. And for you
consolation will not be slow in coming. Who knows but you may throw
your spell upon Totila himself.'
'You know not what you say,' replied Veranilda; not, as when she
used the words before, in accents quivering from a stricken heart,
but with sorrowful dignity and self-command. 'Is it Basil who speaks
thus? Were it only the wrong done me that I had to bear, I could
keep silence, waiting until God restored your justice and your
gentleness. But, though in nothing blameworthy, I am the cause of
what has come about; for had I not entered that room when I did, you
would not have struck the fatal blow. Listen then, O Basil, whilst I
make known to you what happened before you came.'
She paused to control herself.
'I must go back to the night when I left the convent. No one had
told me I was to go away.
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