"Oh, but you shall love me!" Each passionate word seemed a link in a
strong chain that bound him inexorably to her. "What does it matter,"
she pleaded, "that you care little for me now? My love is great enough
for both. I can give my life up, but I can never give you up. You are
dearer to me than life!"
She leaned over him, and he felt as in a dream the old potential charm
of her flower-sweet breath and glowing beauty. Still, though he
submitted to her caresses, he did not return them. Within his ears the
impassioned words of Helene were sounding perpetually, deafening him
to every other appeal. His visible presence was with Wanda, his breast
was deeply stirred with pity and affection and remorse for her, but
his soul was left behind with that stricken girl, to whose
broken-hearted confessions he had been a forced listener.
The day had lost its brightness, as though twilight had suddenly laid
her dusky hand across the burning gaze of noon; the shadows deepened
perceptibly about them; the sky threatened, the darkened trees seemed
full of dread, the last gleam of light faded swiftly into the black
approaching clouds, and they were speedily engulfed in one of those
impatient summer showers, whose sharp fury quickly spends itself.
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