She trembles at every sound, thinking it _my_ footstep.

If her anguish be but the shadow of mine--' He sprang up, ghastly.

He had not closed his eyes through the night, but had lain, and walked about the room, in torment.

Desire, jealousy, frenzy of first passion, the first passion of his life; no pang was spared him.

Oh, how had it grown so suddenly! He had imagined love such as this for some stately woman whose walk was upon the heights of mind--some great artist--some glorious sovereign of culture.