I can’t love you. He left his companion in the midst of a glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess as she moved from one group to join another. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. " "A terrible dream, indeed," said Jonathan thoughtfully. Wild," said Sheppard.
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