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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"


His wish was almost instantly fulfilled. After the slightest pause she
looked up at him with a lovely smile; yet when he saw that rare look in
her face, his heart sank suddenly, instead of swelling and standing
still with happiness, and when she saw how sad he was, she was grave
with the instant longing to feel whatever he felt of pain or sorrow.
That is one of the truest signs of love, but Zorzi had not learned much
of love's sign-language yet, and did not understand.
"What is it?" she asked almost tenderly.
He turned his eyes from her and rested one hand against the trunk of the
plane-tree.
"I do not understand," he said slowly.
"Why are you so sad? What is it that is always making you suffer?"
"How could I tell you?" The words were spoken almost under his breath.
"It would be very easy to tell me," she said. "Perhaps I could help
you--"
"Oh no, no, no!" he cried with an accent of real pain. "You could not
help me!"
"Who knows? Perhaps I am the best friend you have in the world, Zorzi."
"Indeed I believe you are! No one has ever been so good to me."
"And you have not many friends," continued Marietta. "The workmen are
jealous of you, because you are always with my father. My brothers do
not like you, for the same reason, and they think that you will get my
father's secret from him some day, and outdo them all.


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