“ Monsieur, j’en ai bien le droit. ”

“ Vous êtes malade de cœur et d’humeur ,” 116 he pursued. “You are at once mournful and mutinous. I see on your cheek two tears which I know are hot as two sparks, and salt as two crystals of the sea. While I speak you eye me strangely. Shall I tell you of what I am reminded while watching you?”

“Monsieur, I shall be called away to prayers shortly; my time for conversation is very scant and brief at this hour⁠—excuse⁠—”

“I excuse everything,” he interrupted; “my mood is so meek, neither rebuff nor, perhaps, insult could ruffle it. You remind me, then, of a young she wild creature, new caught, untamed, viewing with a mixture of fire and fear the first entrance of the breaker-in.”