"Speak to me harshly if you will; exact all that the cruel fancies of a woman lead you to imagine I least can bear; but oh, my beloved, do not doubt my love.

You take Minna like an axe to hew me down.

Have mercy!" "Why do you say these things, my friend, when you know that they are useless ?" she replied, with a look which grew in the end so soft that Wilfrid ceased to behold her eyes, but saw in their place a fluid light, the shimmer of which was like the last vibrations of an Italian song.
"Ah! no man dies of anguish!" he murmured.
"You are suffering ?" she said in a voice whose intonations produced upon his heart the same effect as that of her look.

"Would I could help you!" "Love me as I love you." "Poor Minna!" she replied.
"Why am I unarmed!" exclaimed Wilfrid, violently.
"You are out of temper," said Seraphita, smiling.

"Come, have I not spoken to you like those Parisian women whose loves you tell of ?" Wilfrid sat down, crossed his arms, and looked gloomily at Seraphita.