And what do you say to me, Dartrey ?--I can confess it: I am one of them: I love you.

When last you left England, I kissed your hand.

It was because of your manly heart in that stone figure.

I kept from crying: you used to scorn us English for the "whimpering fits" you said we enjoy and must have in books, if we can't get them up for ourselves.

I could have prayed to have you as brother or son.