It was not written that I should love any man." "Gretchen, who are you, and what have you done ?" "What have I done?
Nothing! Who am I?
Nobody!" "Is that the only answer you can give ?" "It is the only answer I will give." There was something in Gretchen's face which awed me.

It was power and resolution, two things man seldom sees in a woman's face.
"Supposing, Gretchen, that I should take you in my arms and kiss you ?" I was growing reckless because I felt awed, which seems rather a remarkable statement.

"I know you only as a barmaid; why, not ?" She never moved to go away.

There was no alarm in her eyes, though they narrowed.
"You would never forgive yourself, would you ?" I thought for a moment.

"No, Gretchen, I should never forgive myself.
But I know that if I ask you to let me kiss your hand before I go, you will grant so small a favor." "There," and her hand stretched toward me.