"You are young, child.
In time you will understand what place the world assigns to such men as I.It is a place I could ask no woman to share.

Such as I am, could I speak of love to any woman ?" "Yet you spoke of love once to me," she reminded him, scarcely above her breath, and stabbed him with the recollection.
"In an hour of moonshine, an hour of madness, when I was a reckless fool that must give tongue to every impulse.

You reproved me then in just the terms my case deserved.

Hortensia," he bent towards her, leaning on his cane, "'tis very sweet and merciful in you to recall it without reproach.

Recall it no more, save to think with scorn of the fleering coxcomb who was so lost to the respect that is due to so sweet a lady.