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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.
