It was perfectly logical. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth.
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