Rebecca.
——for you were never quite yourself so long as Beata lived——
Rosmer.
I am afraid you are right there.
Rebecca.
But when I found myself sharing your life here,—in quiet—in solitude,—when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve—every tender and delicate feeling, just as it came to you—then the great change came over me. Little by little, you understand. Almost imperceptibly—but at last with such overwhelming force that it reached to the depths of my soul.
Rosmer.
Oh, is this true, Rebecca?
Rebecca.
All the rest—the horrible sense-intoxicated desire—passed far, far away from me. All the whirling passions settled down into quiet and silence. Rest descended on my soul—a stillness as on one of our northern bird-cliffs under the midnight sun.