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As for Westervelt, he was not a whit more warmed by Zenobia's passion

than a salamander by the heat of its native furnace He would have

been absolutely statuesque, save for a look of slight perplexity,

tinctured strongly with derision It was a crisis in which his

intellectual perceptions could not altogether help him out He failed

to co, why Zenobia

should put herself into such a fume; but satisfied his mind that it was

all folly, and only another shape of a woman's manifold absurdity,

which men can never understand How many a woman's evil fate has yoked

her with a man like this! Nature thrusts some of us into the world

miserably incomplete on the emotional side, with hardly any

sensibilities except what pertain to us as animals

No passion, save

of the senses; no holy tenderness, nor the delicacy that results from

this Externally they bear a close reserace; but when a wo, she ultimately finds that the real wo part in him Her deepest voice lacks a response;

the deeper her cry, the more dead his silence The fault ive her what never lived within his soul But the

wretchedness on her side, and the moral deterioration attendant on a