"
"However much I may resemble your sister, you are aware that I
am not she; why, then, take so much interest in one whom you
have never seen before and may never see again?"
"The love," said he, "which I had for my sister is transferred to you."
Clotelle had all along suspected that the man was a knave,
and this profession of love at once confirmed her in that belief.
She therefore immediately turned away and left him.
Hours elapsed. Twilight was just "letting down her curtain and pinning it
with a star," as the slave-girl seated herself on a sofa by the window,
and began meditating upon her eventful history, meanwhile watching the white
waves as they seemed to sport with each other in the wake of the noble vessel,
with the rising moon reflecting its silver rays upon the splendid scene,
when the foreigner once more appeared near the window. Although agitated
for fear her mistress would see her talking to a stranger, and be angry,
Clotelle still thought she saw something in the countenance of the young man
that told her he was sincere, and she did not wish to hurt his feelings.
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