"It is not dead in my breast, Thusis."
"It is dead in every breast. Only its frail ghost haunts our hearts at moments."
"When I offered you my heart, Thusis, did you suppose it empty save for a trace of selfish passion?"
"Men are men.... I do not understand their hearts."
"Take mine; tear it apart, look into it,—even if I die of it. Will you?"
Her laugh became less genuine and there was no gaiety in it.
"Tell me what I should find in your heart if I dissected it?"
"Love—and a sword!"
"You—you offer me your life, Michael?"
"This life—and the next."