Was it in some former life, in some ethereal region beyond the world?
She could not tell, but she felt sure that she had already loved him; that she had been his bride, in a happier holier world, in the realm of saints and martyrs.
As she gazed upon him, she was ever more under his spell. Now their eyes met, and although he—being in the glare of the golden sunshine—could not see her, for she was behind the more than half-closed shutters, still the glances he shot at her, seemed to sink deep into her pupils, and even beyond them within her very brain.
What was taking place in her, was it a contagion of sympathy?
Her blood at first got heated, then it began to glow, then her wits seemed to wander.
Was love mastering her? She could not tell, she only knew that her heart was beating faster and stronger than usual, and that all the nerves in her body were quivering.
As her eyes were intently fixed upon the young man, her whole attention was entirely engrossed by him, her sight, her hearing,
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