As it was, she did not pause.
"You understand therefore, my Mind, that this Beatrice was entirely the creature of the man's imagination.

Beatrice does not exist, because she never existed.

Beatrice never had any real being.

Do you understand ?" This time she waited for an answer, but none came.
"There never was any Beatrice," she repeated firmly, laying her hand upon the unconscious head and bending down to gaze into the sightless eyes.
The answer did not come, but a shiver like that of an ague shook the long, graceful limbs.
"You are my Mind," she said fiercely.

"Obey me! There never was any Beatrice, there is no Beatrice now, and there never can be." The noble brow contracted in a look of agonising pain, and the whole frame shook like an aspen leaf in the wind.