Justification he had none; excuse I found in my heart for him, for it struck me--coming over me in a strange sudden revelation as I sat and looked at him--that he had given such love to the duchess, the gay little lady would have been marvelously embarrassed.

It was hers to dwell in a radiant mid-ether, neither to mount to heaver nor descend to hell.

And in one of theses two must dwell such feelings as the dukes's.
He roused himself, and leaning forward spoke to me again: "You've lived in the same house with her and talked to her.

You swear you don't love her?
What?
Has Elsa's little figure come between ?" His tone was full of scorn.

He seemed angry with me, not for presuming to love his wife (nay, he would not believe that), but for being so blind as not to love Marie.
"I didn't love her!" I answered, with a frown on my face and slow words.
"You have never felt attracted to her ?" I did not answer that question.