The scene had made her as beautiful as a young woman; of her whole person Balthazar saw only her head, rising from a cloud of lace and muslin.
“Yes, I have done wrong to abandon you for Science,” he said. “If I fall back into thought and preoccupation, then, my Pepita, you must drag me from them; I desire it.”
She lowered her eyes and let him take her hand, her greatest beauty,—a hand that was both strong and delicate.
“But I ask more,” she said.
“You are so lovely, so delightful, you can obtain all,” he answered.
“I wish to destroy that laboratory, and chain up Science,” she said, with fire in her eyes.
“So be it—let Chemistry go to the devil!”
“This moment effaces all!” she cried. “Make me suffer now, if you will.”
Tears came to Balthazar’s eyes, as he heard these words.
“You were right, love,” he said. “I have seen you through a veil; I have not understood you.”