Yes! though anything!' 'And if ever you were to witness the power of his just breathing to me ?' 'I would....

Ah!' 'What?
If you saw his music working the spell ?--even the first notes of his prelude!' 'I would wait' 'It might be for long.' 'I would eat my heart.' 'Bitter! bitter!' 'I would wait till he flung you off, and kneel to you.' She had a seizure of the nerves.
The likeness between them was, she felt, too flamingly keen to be looked at further.

She reached to the dim idea of some such nauseous devotion, and took a shot in her breast as she did so, and abjured it, and softened to her victim.

Clotilde opened her arms, charming away her wound, as she soothed him, both by the act of soothing and the reflection that she could not be so very like one whom she pitied and consoled.
She was charitably tender.

If it be thought that she was cruel to excess, plead for her the temptation to simple human nature at sight of a youth who could be precipitated into the writhings of dissolution, and raised out of it by a smile.