I loitered round your chair, so as to move in your breath, to drag my clothes over yours.

It seemed as though your blood cast puffs of heat on me as I passed, and it was this sort of burning cloud in which you were enveloped, that attracted me, and detained me beside you in spite of my secret revolt.

You remember when you were painting here: a fatal power attracted me to your side, and I breathed your air with cruel delight.

I know I seemed to be begging for kisses, I felt ashamed of my bondage, I felt I should fall, if you were to touch me.

But I gave way to my cowardice, I shivered with cold, waiting until you chose to take me in your arms." When Therese ceased speaking, she was quivering, as though proud at being avenged.