’ Disappointment flooded her. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. I believe it amused him. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. She hated living like that. Days later, Sebastian found her by the lake, sobbing. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. A carpenter's daughter is no fit match for a peer of France. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. But the influence of the science radiated far beyond its own special field— beyond those beautiful but highly technical problems with which we do not propose for a moment to trouble the naturally terrified reader.
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