She pressed her bosom while I spoke: a lover's speech, breathless.
'You love me ?' she said.
'You have known it!' 'Yes, yes!' 'Forgiven me?
Speak, princess.' 'Call me by my name.' 'My own soul! Ottilia!' She disengaged her arms tenderly.
'I have known it by my knowledge of myself,' she said, breathing with her lips dissevered.

'My weakness has come upon me.

Yes, I love you.

It is spoken.

It is too true.