He would protect her; he would kill all the Indians in the desert for her sake; he would feed her on his own blood, if necessary.
As he considered these proper and feasible projects, the audacious thought which he had just tried to expel from his mind forced its way back into it.

If the Van Diemen estate were insolvent, if this semi-divine Clara were as poor as himself, there was a call on him to double his devotion to her, and there was a hope that his worship might some day be rewarded.
How he would slave and serve for her; how he would earn promotion for her sake; how he would fight her battle in life! But would she let him do it?
Ah, it seemed too much to hope.

Poor though she was, she was still a heaven or so above him; she was so beautiful and had so many perfections! Oh, the purity, the self-abnegation, the humility of love! It makes a man scarcely lower than the angels, and quite superior to not a few reverenced saints..