He loves me and he's marrying me for myself.

But, after all, he isn't rich; he still has no assured position, although he's thirty-six; and there may well be some advantage in a wife who brings you wealth as well as happiness.

For, you hear, mamma, it's happiness I'm bringing him, real happiness, love that's shared and is certain of the future." Once again their faces drew close together.

The hateful scene, interrupted by sounds around them, postponed, and then resumed, was dragging on, becoming a perfect drama full of murderous violence, although they never shouted, but still spoke on in low and gasping voices.

Neither gave way to the other, though at every moment they were liable to some surprise; for not only were all the doors open, so that the servants might come in, but the Baron's voice still rang out gaily, close at hand.
"He loves you, he loves you"-- continued Eve.