Read it through once

A sprig of orange-blossom was stuck among some fruit that was lying on a tray near by. ‘As the orange-blossom gives its scent unaltered to the sleeve that brushes it, so have you taken on your mother’s beauty, till you and she are one.’ So he recited, adding: ‘Nothing has ever consoled me for her loss, and indeed, though so many years have passed I shall die regretting her as bitterly as at the start. But to-night, when I first caught sight of you, it seemed to me for an instant that she had come back to me again—that the past was only a dream.... Bear with me; you cannot conceive what happiness was brought me by one moment of illusion. But now it is over ...’ and so saying he took her hand in his. She was somewhat taken aback, for he had never attempted to do such a thing before; but she answered quietly: ‘Wretched will be my lot indeed, should the flower’s perfume prove hapless as the flower that was destroyed.’