"Miss Harleth," said Klesmer, turning toward her and speaking with a slight increase of accent, "I will veil nothing from you in this matter. I should reckon myself guilty if I put a false visage on things--made them too black or too white. The gods have a curse for him who willingly tells another the wrong road. And if I misled one who is so young, so beautiful--who, I trust, will find her happiness along the right road, I should regard myself as a--_Bsewicht_." In the last word Klesmer's voice had dropped to a loud whisper.
Gwendolen felt a sinking of heart under this unexpected solemnity, and kept a sort of fascinated gaze on Klesmer's face, as he went on.
"You are a beautiful young lady--you have been brought up in ease--you have done what you would--you have not said to yourself, 'I must know this exactly,' 'I must understand this exactly,' 'I must do this exactly,'"--in uttering these three terrible _musts_, Klesmer lifted up three long fingers in succession. "In sum, you have not been called upon to be anything but a charming young lady, whom it is an impoliteness to find fault with."
He paused an instant; then resting his fingers on his hips again, and thrusting out his powerful chin, he said,

"Miss Harleth," said Klesmer with a slight increase of accent, "I will veil nothing from you in this matter. I should reckon myself guilty if I put you on the wrong road. And if I misled one who is so young, so beautiful - who, I trust, will find her happiness along the right road, I should regard myself as a villain."
Gwendolen felt a sinking of heart under this unexpected solemnity as he went on.
"You are a beautiful young lady - you have been brought up in ease. You have not been called upon to be anything but a charming young lady, whom it is impolite to find fault with."
He paused; then thrusting out his powerful chin, he said,
