260 “Can you turn me into one?” “Yes, I can turn you into one tonight. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. He brought me past this house, and I thought I would call and leave your brother’s letter. But the fall was too great, and he abandoned the attempt. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. I love your very breath. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then has been closed. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to avoid the storm. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue.
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