Jealousy is a noxious element in my soul, and you have revealed to me its strength; it is awful, it destroys everything--Oh! I do not mean the jealousy of an Othello," he continued, noticing Modeste's gesture.

"No, no; my thoughts were of myself: I have been so indulged on that point.

You know the affection to which I owe all the happiness I have ever enjoyed,--very little at the best" (he sadly shook his head).
"Love is symbolized among all nations as a child, because it fancies the world belongs to it, and it cannot conceive otherwise.

Well, Nature herself set the limit to that sentiment.

It was still-born.