"Consent ever to belong, body--and soul--to be touched, polluted, desecrated, by that inhuman monster; sold to him, to a creature without pity, whose heart is a toad, a venomous creeping thing--sold to him for this life, and to the vengeance of God hereafter; bartered, traded, and told that I am so vile and lost that the very price I am offered is an honour to me, being so much more than my value." She came toward me as she spoke, and the passionate, unshed tears that were in her seemed to choke her, so that her voice was hoarse.
"And for what--for what ?" she cried, wildly, seizing my arm and looking fiercely into my eyes.

"For what, I say?
Because I gave him a poor rose; because I let him see me once; because I loved his sweet voice; because--because--I love him, and will love him, and do love him, though I die!" The girl was in a frenzy of passion and love and hate all together, and did not count her words.

The white heat of her tormented soul blazed from her pale face and illuminated every feature, though she was turned from the light, and she shook my arm in her grasp so that it pained me.

The marble was burnt in the fire, and must consume itself to ashes.

The white and calm statue was become a pillar of flame in the life-and-death struggle for love.