My dear lord, believe me! Her suffering is no great thing.

If we love we welcome it! Each throb of pain endured for love becomes a thrill of joy.

If I could have suffered too!" It was strange to hear this girl with the streaming eyes and tormented face bewail her fate in that she had not won that great privilege of suffering.

She knelt on the ground a splendid image of pain, and longed for pain that she might prove thereby how little a thing she made of it.
The Chevalier drew a stool to her side and seating himself upon it clasped her about the waist.

She laid her cheek upon his knee just as a dog will do.
"Sweetheart," said he, "I would have no woman suffer a pang for me had I my will of the world.