Above all, what was about to happen between them?
What fate had brought him there?
To him, Seraphita was the motionless marble, light nevertheless as a vapor, which Minna had seen that day poised above the precipices of the Falberg.

Could she thus stand on the edge of all gulfs without danger, without a tremor of the arching eyebrows, or a quiver of the light of the eye?
If his love was to be without hope, it was not without curiosity.
From the moment when Wilfrid suspected the ethereal nature of the enchantress who had told him the secrets of his life in melodious utterance, he had longed to try to subject her, to keep her to himself, to tear her from the heaven where, perhaps, she was awaited.

Earth and Humanity seized their prey; he would imitate them.

His pride, the only sentiment through which man can long be exalted, would make him happy in this triumph for the rest of his life.

The idea sent the blood boiling through his veins, and his heart swelled.