She felt how useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief, cried: "Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!" Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words, in being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom: "No, you are not lost.

On the contrary, you are saved, if you will only listen to and understand me.

What are we, you and I?
You, a child adopted by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman.

You live in luxury, thanks to Madame Desvarennes's liberality.

I can scarcely manage to keep myself with the help of my family.