This impulse was supplanted by some degree of confusion, flowing from a consciousness that love had too large, and, as it might prove, a perceptible share in creating this impulse.

I was silent.
Presently he raised his eyes and fixed them upon me.

I read in them an anguish altogether ineffable.

Never had I witnessed a like demeanour in Pleyel.

Never, indeed, had I observed an human countenance in which grief was more legibly inscribed.