Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. I want to give myself to you. . We’d soon cool that temper of yours. Nothing is wrong that you do. . I was to blame to carry the matter so far. Not up here, I think. For this he was prepared; but he was not prepared for the almost insurmountable obstacles which it presented. Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact with a kiss. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face. And still you interest yourself in my affairs. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive.
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