human
Helen, Helen--have you relented at last? Do you pity and forgive me? Do you indeed love me?
gpt
Ungrateful wretch! cried a voice far different from Helen's. The drooping head was quickly raised, the cap dashed from the head, and the cloak hurled from the shoulders.
human
Ungrateful wretch, as false as vile, do you know me now?
gpt
Mittie! is it indeed you? said Clinton, involuntarily recoiling a few steps from the fiery glance that flashed through her tears.
human
I am not worthy of this condescension.
gpt
Condescension! repeated she, disdainfully.
human
Condescension! Yes--you say well. You did not expect me! continued she, in a tone of withering sarcasm.
gpt
I am sorry for your disappointment. I am sorry the gentle Helen did not see fit to leave her downy bed, and warm room, braving the inclemency of the wintry blast, to minister to her waiting lover. It is a wondrous pity.
human
Oh, my soul! was it for this I came forth alone, in darkness and stealth, like the felon whose den I sought? Is it on such a being as this, I have wasted such boundless wealth of love? Father, mother, brother, sister--all vainly urged their claims upon my heart. It was marble--it was ice to them. They thought I was made of stone, granite; would to Heaven I were. But you, Clinton; but you breathed upon the rock, you softened, you warmed; and now, wretch, you grind it into powder. You melted the ice--and having drained the waters, you have left a dry and burning channel--here.