Chérubin continued:
“‘But I should deem myself most fortunate if I might have the pleasure of making your acquaintance. My family is well known, I am received in the best society, and——’”
“Enough! enough!” cried Daréna, rising. “That won’t do, my dear fellow; you are on the wrong track!”
“Do you think that my letter is too bold?”
“On the contrary, it isn’t bold enough! She would laugh at you when she read it.”
“Remember that this is the first time I ever wrote a billet-doux, and I don’t know how they are usually expressed.”
“Take your pen again and write what I dictate.”
“All right, I prefer that.”
Chérubin seated himself at his desk again and Daréna dictated:
“O woman more than adored! I burn, I wither, I languish! Your eyes are the flame, your smile the brazier, my heart the conflagration! You have set fire to my whole being. A word of love, of hope, or I will not answer for the consequences—I will kill myself at your feet, before your eyes, in your arms! Derision! damnation! if you do not answer!”