Captain, I can't thank you enough. Your kindnesses to my cousin have meant a great deal. You really have no reason to thank me, sir. Any attention that's paid to her means so much. Signora Fosca has always had a shortage of friends. My dearest Giorgio, I am writing to you even though the Doctor has forbidden it. What a joy to have someone to whom I can tell my feelings, to share my past with. I was a young man when my parents died, and Fosca's mother and father welcomed me into their house whenever I was on leave. As a child, As a child, she was lonely. I was happy. Her parents doted on her. My parents doted on me. They said, Beautiful. So sensitive. So beautiful. They told me to be Careful. Fosca. To them she was A girl as beautiful as you are has to And so Be careful. I thought that I was beautiful. And then she reached the age where being beautiful Becomes the most important thing a woman can be. An unattractive man. As long as you're a man, you still have opportunities. Beautiful. Whereas if you're a woman, You either are a daughter or a wife. A woman is a flower. You marry. Until you're seventy. Or you're a daughter all your life. Now is the hour. I'd met this nice young man. I'd seen this nice young man. He'd introduced himself. Passing by. At my club. Just below my window. Soon. One day. One evening I invited him. He tit his hat to me. Home. Count Ludovic. I must admit that I was flattered. This is my Aunt Teresa and my Uncle Bruno. A count? From where, may I ask? Austria. Austria. What a beautiful place. Fosca, we have a visitor. Imagine my surprise. I'd like you to meet a new friend, Count Ludovic. He was even more handsome up close. I was amazed to see the count take such an interest in my cousin. If I had known you were here, Signorina. If he had known, of course he knew. I would have brought you many flowers. I should have known. You do like flowers. I should have known. I've seen you at your window. Won't you stay for dinner? I do, yes. Count. I've watched you every day since I arrived. I had my suspicions. I had no suspicions. I chose not to see. The way you move, the way you gaze at the sky. For love had made me blind. How could I be so blind? Or what I took for love. Within a month, he had asked for her hand. Signora Fosca has been married? Yes. Austria, Count Ludovic of Austria. I sense in him a danger, deception, even violence. I must admit to some degree that it excited me. Austria, Count Ludovic of Austria. Once they were married, once he received my uncle's sizable dowry, he traveled a great deal, was unavailable to Fosca. He gambled away the dowry. Didn't take him long to spend all their money. And so I was forced to go to my parents to borrow from what little savings they had left. Then one day, as she was coming back from the market. Excuse me, are you the wife of a Count Ludovic? Yes. You fool, the man's a fraud, a fake. The trips he said he had to take abroad, he took them so that he could be with me. He calls himself a Count, but he's not. He's never had a title in his life. He doesn't have a title, but he does have a wife and a child in Dalmatia. No, you must be mistaken. Oh yes. He only wants to bleed you until the day he doesn't need you. I warn you, he'll abandon you as he abandoned her and me and countless others, I've no doubt. I'm telling you, the man was born without a heart. You fool! I confronted him with this information and, to his credit, he made no attempt to deny it. Ah, well. At last you know the truth, Signorina. You as well must face the truth. I've no desire to deceive you anymore, but do admit what you ignore. We made our bargain, did we not? And we got what we bargained for. You gave me your money, I gave you my looks and my charm and my arm. I would say that more than balances the books, now it's done. If women sell their looks, why can't a man, if he can? Besides, the money wasn't even yours. It belonged to those ridiculous old boars, your parents. Forgive me, my dear, but though you are no beauty, I fear, you are not quite the victim you appear. Well, let us part by mutual consent and be content, and so good luck and goodbye. I must go. Oh, and yes, we haven't paid the rent since too long, just so you know. I returned home to find my parents impoverished and in poor health. Fosca's health failed. There was to have been a child, but... A woman is like a flower. She began to suffer her first convulsions. My aunt and uncle nursed her as best they could. A flower's only purpose is to please. I spent months looking for that man. Beauty his power. And then, of course, he vanished. Longing a disease. To this day, I dream of finding him and realizing my revenge. My father died not long after. How could I be so blind? I couldn't face the world. It took her many months to leave her bed. When her mother died, she had nothing, really. No one. And so I went to stay with my cousin, who in some way felt responsible for my circumstances. Why could I not admit the truth? How could I not have seen through the veneer? I told myself as long as she seems happy, why interfere? Or was I just relieved to know that anyone would want her for a wife? In war, you know the enemy. Not always so in life. The enemy was love. Selfishness, really, but love. All of us blinded by love that makes everything seem possible. You have to pay a consequence for things that you've denied. This is the thorn in my side. As long as you're a man, you'll watch the world will make of you. Whereas if you're a woman, you're only what it seems. A woman is a flower whose purpose is to please. Beauty is power long in the disease.