Oh, in truth, you are to me a dream--a symbol of all that is noble, high and pure.

In you and through you, Rosamund, I worship the heaven I hope to share with you." "A dream?
A symbol?
Heaven?
Are not these glittering garments to hang about a woman's shape?
Why, when the truth came out you would find her but a skull in a jewelled mask, and learn to loath her for a deceit that was not her own, but yours.

Godwin, such trappings as your imagination pictures could only fit an angel's face." "They fit a face that will become an angel's." "An angel's?
How know you?
I am half an Eastern; the blood runs warm in me at times.

I, too, have my thoughts and visions.

I think that I love power and imagery and the delights of life--a different life from this.