Chapter

 1  2,2|       honest people how dearly I love my country, and what sacrifices
 2  2,3|         de Witt. ~"Farewell, and love me. ~"Cornelius de Witt ~"
 3  6,2|         For, strange to say, the love and interest of horticulture
 4 11,1|    indifference to politics, his love of study, of the fine arts,
 5 11,1|        Another observed that the love of tulips agreed perfectly
 6 11,2|      making you a declaration of love, alas! poor dear, it would
 7 11,2|          one with what is called love, and if any one has loved
 8 11,2|         fine young man, whom you love, and who will love you,
 9 11,2|      whom you love, and who will love you, as dearly as I loved
10 11,3|         my marrying a man whom I love?" ~"Certainly." ~"Well,
11 11,3|      belong to me. I shall never love any one; neither shall I
12 13,1|            Rosa, that is to say, love; ~William of Orange, that
13 14,1|        live without something to love. She conceived an affection
14 14,2|        my beautiful Rosa, do you love me a little?" ~"A little?"
15 15,2|          said Rosa, allowing her love to get the better of her
16 15,2|         with a look beaming with love and joy. ~Rosa cast down
17 16,2|      sincerity of a soul full of love. ~She, however, smilingly
18 16,2|        help studying this double love of the prisoner for herself
19 17,1|           Oh, yes, yes, he is in love with you," said Cornelius. "
20 17,1|      likely, as to see you is to love you, at least you don't
21 17,1|          you, at least you don't love him." ~"To be sure I don'
22 17,2|        who, with the pure sacred love of her innocent heart, poured
23 18,2|        is not you that he was in love with!" ~"But with whom else?" ~"
24 18,2|         after my bulb, and is in love with my tulip!" ~"You don'
25 18,2|         in sobs, "I see that you love your tulips with such love
26 18,2|       love your tulips with such love as to have no more room
27 19,1|       fate was fast growing into love, she did not, on the other
28 19,1|     without a tear, the pearl of love, rolling from her limpid
29 19,1|          mistaken. Never had the love of the prisoner been more
30 19,1|        his part, awoke deeper in love than ever. The tulip, indeed,
31 19,2|          two lost objects of his love. ~In the evening, Gryphus
32 20,2|             Yes," said Rosa, "to love your tulip." ~"To love you,
33 20,2|        to love your tulip." ~"To love you, Rosa." ~Rosa shook
34 20,2|        flutter with just as much love about the honey-suckles,
35 20,2|         me sad to think that you love them better than you do
36 20,2|         beats. It is for you, my love, not for the black tulip.
37 20,2|      have accustomed myself; but love me, Rosa, love me; for I
38 20,2|       myself; but love me, Rosa, love me; for I feel deeply that
39 20,2|         for I feel deeply that I love but you." ~"Yes, after the
40 20,2|        That is an imaginary lady love, at all events; whereas,
41 20,2|          of swains eager to make love to you. Do you remember
42 20,2|          that will you bid me to love and marry a handsome young
43 20,2|      which, however, was full of love, and disappeared. ~ ~
44 21,1|       irradiated by the light of love. ~When Gryphus, therefore,
45 21,1|     muttering, - ~"Rosa, Rosa, I love you." ~And as it was already
46 21,2|        years, whom I shall be in love with." ~"Don't talk in that
47 22,2|        two objects of my dearest love caress each other under
48 23,1|     Loewestein the object of his love and the object of his hatred, -
49 23,1|        to her of marriage and of love, he had evaded all the suspicions
50 23,1|      second was intrusted to the love and care of Rosa. ~For it
51 24,1|         nights, the child of our love? Rosa, we must pursue, we
52 25,1|    surprised the secret of their love and of their secret meetings. ~
53 27,1|         Gryphus, and, falling in love with his daughter, made
54 27,2|         de Witt. ~"Farewell, and love me. ~Cornelius de Witt. ~"
55 28,1|        my self-respect, or to my love, or even threaten my personal
56 30,1|          Highness." ~"You do not love him?" ~"I do not; at least,
57 30,1|           It is not right not to love one's father, but it is
58 30,1|    started back a step. ~"Whom I love, Monseigneur," she answered
59 30,1|       But to what can it lead to love a man who is doomed to live
60 31,1| favourite, having advertised its love of flowers in general and
61 32,1|          you, as you are said to love flowers, and especially
62 33,1|         his life, his heart, his love, quite concentrated on the
63 33,2|       They are the reward of her love, her courage, and her honesty.