Still playing with the roses near her, she relapsed into silence. Her
breath came and went quickly; I saw her long eyelashes quiver against
the pale rose-leaf tint of her cheeks,--the pure outline of her delicate
profile suggested to my mind one of Fra Angelico's meditative saints or
angels. All at once, while I yet watched her admiringly, she suddenly
sprang erect, crushing a rose in her hand,--her head thrown back, her
eyes flashing, her whole frame trembling.
"Oh, I cannot bear it!" she cried wildly--"I cannot bear it!"