Is it really your old friend or is it another that you love ?" "I?
I, Guillaume?
Why do you say that to me?
What can I have done to give you occasion to say such a thing!" All her frank nature revolted as she spoke, and her beautiful eyes, glowing with sincerity, gazed fixedly on his.
"I love Pierre! I do, I ?...

Well, yes, I love him, as I love you all; I love him because he has become one of us, because he shares our life and our joys! I'm happy when he's here, certainly; and I should like him to be always here.

I'm always pleased to see him and hear him and go out with him.

I was very much grieved recently when he seemed to be relapsing into his gloomy ideas.

But all that is natural, is it not?
And I think that I have only done what you desired I should do, and I cannot understand how my affection for Pierre can in any way exercise an influence respecting our marriage." These words, in her estimation, ought to have convinced Guillaume that she was not in love with his brother; but in lieu thereof they brought him painful enlightenment by the very ardour with which she denied the love imputed to her.
"But you unfortunate girl!" he cried.