This page needs to be proofread.
CLERMONT.
CHAP. I.
Thoughts succeed thoughts, like restless troubled waves,
Dashing out one another.
After perusing her letter, Madame D'Alembert leaned her head upon her hand and continued silent many minutes as if absorbed in profound meditation; then raising it, "my love (she cried to Madeline, whose eyes, though she had retired to a window were fastened on her), my love, (motioning for her to take a seat by her), I am now going to put your friendship to the test."
