I feel that it would do me good." Then, as Silvere remained silent, she perceived that she had displeased him.

Her feverishness subsided, and she whispered in a supplicating tone: "You are not angry with me, are you?
It's your departure which grieves me and awakens such ideas.

I know very well you are right--that I ought to be humble." Then she began to cry, and Silvere, moved by her tears, grasped her hands and kissed them.
"See, now, how you pass from anger to tears, like a child," he said lovingly.

"You must be reasonable.

I'm not scolding you.