“Would she speak to you again if she heard you talking so of the love you give her?”
“You know as well as I do the word has many meanings!”
“And which is she likely to take? That which is confessedly false and worth nothing?”
“She may take which she pleases, and drop it when she pleases.”
“But now, does she not take your words of love for more than they are worth?”
“She says I will soon forget her.”
“Will any saying keep her from being so in love with you as to reap misery? You don’t know what the consequences may be! Her love wakened by yours, may be infinitely stronger than yours!”
“Oh, women don’t now-a-days die for love!” said his lordship, feeling a little flattered.
“It would be well for some of them if they did! they never get over it. She mayn’t die, true! but she may live to hate the man that led her to think he loved her, and taught her to believe in nobody. Her whole life may be darkened because you would amuse yourself.”
“She has her share of the amusement, and I have my share, by Jove, of the danger! She’s a very pretty, clever, engaging girl—though she is but a housemaid!” said Forgue, as if uttering a sentiment of quite communistic liberality.