Salammbo leaned fainting against the cushions of the bed.
"I love you!" cried Matho.
"Give it!" she stammered out, and they drew closer together.
She kept advancing, clothed in her white trailing simar, and with her large eyes fastened on the veil.

Matho gazed at her, dazzled by the splendours of her head, and, holding out the zaimph towards her, was about to enfold her in an embrace.

She was stretching out her arms.

Suddenly she stopped, and they stood looking at each other, open-mouthed.
Then without understanding the meaning of his solicitation a horror seized upon her.

Her delicate eyebrows rose, her lips opened; she trembled.