"What do you mean ?" he muttered, finding his voice at last.
"Who hates, burns.

Who loves, burns also.

But that is by the way." "Burns ?" "Ay," with a grin, "burns! It seems to come home to you.

Burns! Fie, young man; you hate, I fear, beyond measure, or love beyond measure, if you so fear the fire.

What, you must leave us?
It is not very mannerly," with sarcasm, "to go while I speak!" But Claude could bear no more.