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Rappaccini's Daughter

           Scarcelyknowingwhathedid,Giovannithrewdownthebouquetwhichhehadhithertoheldinhishand.

           "Signora,"saidhe,"therearepureandhealthfulflowers.WearthemforthesakeofGiovanniGuasconti."

           "Thanks,signor,"repliedBeatrice,withherrichvoice,thatcameforthasitwerelikeagushofmusic,andwithamirthfulexpressionhalfchildishandhalfwoman-like."Iacceptyourgift,andwouldfainrecompenseitwiththispreciouspurpleflower;butifItossitintotheairitwillnotreachyou.SoSignorGuascontimustevencontenthimselfwithmythanks."

           Sheliftedthebouquetfromtheground,andthen,asifinwardlyashamedathavingsteppedasidefromhermaidenlyreservetorespondtoastranger’sgreeting,passedswiftlyhomewardthroughthegarden.Butfewasthemomentswere,itseemedtoGiovanni,whenshewasonthepointofvanishingbeneaththesculpturedportal,thathisbeautifulbouquetwasalreadybeginningtowitherinhergrasp.Itwasanidlethought;therecouldbenopossibilityofdistinguishingafadedflowerfromafreshoneatsogreatadistance.

           FormanydaysafterthisincidenttheyoungmanavoidedthewindowthatlookedintoDr.Rappaccini’sgarden,asifsomethinguglyandmonstrouswouldhaveblastedhiseyesighthadhebeenbetrayedintoaglance.Hefeltconsciousofhavingputhimself,toacertainextent,withintheinfluenceofanunintelligiblepowerbythecommunicationwhichhehadopenedwithBeatrice.

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