Still all this was only on the surface, and he often had the impression that her feeling for him was weakened at its foundation both by her cold intelligence, and by her pleasure in worldly things.
And he?
Did he love her as he should, before he had the right to bind her to him for life?
His earnestness and exalted morality looked upon marriage as a rash adventure full of alarming secrets.

Was it possible that their two lives should be so blended together that they should withstand every accident of fate?
He meant to give himself entirely, to keep nothing back, and to be true in body and soul.

Was he sure that he could keep the vow, and that no sinful wishes should come to break it?
Already he was thinking that he might not be always happy with her.
Certainly her beauty, her wit, the attraction of her fresh, healthy youth charmed him, and when she spoke to him with her sweet voice, he had to shut his eyes and hold himself together, not to fall at her feet and bury his head in her dress.

But he feared for himself, for his honor, that a sensual attraction should hardly outlast possession.

His innermost being was painfully troubled.