So in this first engagement of his with the soul of a woman! He neither sat down nor suffered her to sit, but stood looking intently into her face, and said: "I love you." Now that it had come, with this disconcerting swiftness, she was strangely calm, and unashamed.

The elation of knowing for sure that she was loved was like a wand waving away all tremors, stilling them to sweetness.

Since nothing could take away that knowledge, it seemed that she could never again be utterly unhappy.

Then, too, in her nature, so deeply, unreasoningly incapable of perceiving the importance of any principle but love, there was a secret feeling of assurance, of triumph.
He did love her! And she, him! Well! And suddenly panic-stricken, lest he should take back those words, she put her hand up to his breast, and said: "And I love you." The feel of his arms round her, the strength and passion of that moment, were so terribly sweet, that she died to thought, just looking up at him, with lips parted and eyes darker with the depth of her love than he had ever dreamed that eyes could be.

The madness of his own feeling kept him silent.