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Rappaccini's Daughter
Afterthefirstinterview,asecondwasintheinevitablecourseofwhatwecallfate.Athird;afourth;andameetingwithBeatriceinthegardenwasnolongeranincidentinGiovanni’sdailylife,butthewholespaceinwhichhemightbesaidtolive;fortheanticipationandmemoryofthatecstatichourmadeuptheremainder.NorwasitotherwisewiththedaughterofRappaccini.Shewatchedfortheyouth’sappearance,andflewtohissidewithconfidenceasunreservedasiftheyhadbeenplaymatesfromearlyinfancy—asiftheyweresuchplaymatesstill.If,byanyunwontedchance,hefailedtocomeattheappointedmoment,shestoodbeneaththewindowandsentuptherichsweetnessofhertonestofloataroundhiminhischamberandechoandreverberatethroughouthisheart:"Giovanni!Giovanni!Whytarriestthou?Comedown!"AnddownhehastenedintothatEdenofpoisonousflowers.
But,withallthisintimatefamiliarity,therewasstillareserveinBeatrice’sdemeanor,sorigidlyandinvariablysustainedthattheideaofinfringingitscarcelyoccurredtohisimagination.Byallappreciablesigns,theyloved;theyhadlookedlovewitheyesthatconveyedtheholysecretfromthedepthsofonesoulintothedepthsoftheother,asifitweretoosacredtobewhisperedbytheway;theyhadevenspokenloveinthosegushesofpassionwhentheirspiritsdartedforthinarticulatedbreathliketonguesoflong-hiddenflame;andyettherehadbeennosealoflips,noclaspofhands,noranyslightestcaresssuchasloveclaimsandhallows.