Will not my love calm you--love the purest and tenderest that man ever felt?
I would die to heal your heart of its grief!' With a great sob of uttermost anguish, she put back his hands, rose from the chair, and stood apart.

Wilfrid rose and gazed at her in dread.

Had the last calamity of human nature fallen upon her?
He looked about, as if for aid.

Emily read his thoughts perfectly; they helped her to a desperate composure.
'Wilfrid,' she said, 'do I speak like one not in her perfect mind ?' 'I cannot say.

Your words are meaningless to me.