She sat down beside him, crossing her feet like an Eastern woman, and he
set the empty glass carelessly upon the marble floor, as though it had
been a thing of no price.

"That glass was made at her father's furnace," he said.

"A pity he could not have made his daughter of glass too," answered
Arisa.

"Graceful and silent?"

"And easily destroyed! But if I say that, you will think me jealous, and
I am not. She will bring you wealth. I wish her a long life, long enough
to understand that she has been sold to you for your good name, like a
slave, as I was sold, but that you gave gold for me because you wanted
me for myself, whereas you want nothing of her but her gold."

"But for that--" Contarini seemed to be hesitating. "I never meant to
marry her," he added.

"And but for that, you would not! But for that! But for the only thing
which I have not to give you! I wish the world were mine, with all the
rich secret things in it, the myriads of millions of diamonds in the
earth, the thousand rivers of gold that lie deep in the mountain rocks,
and all mankind, and all that mankind has, from end to end of it! Then
you should have it all for your own, and you would not need to marry the
little red-haired girl with the fish's mouth!"

Contarini laughed again.