But the baroness and he were of one opinion, that Alvan in love was not likely to be governable by prudent counsel.

He dropped a word of the whispers of Clotilde's volatility.
Alvan nodded his perfect assent.

'She is that, she is anything you like; you cannot exaggerate her for good or evil.

She is matchless, colour her as you please.' Adopting the tone of argument, he said: 'She writes that letter.

Well?
It is her writing, and the moment, I am sure of it as hers, I would not have it unwritten.