"'You shan't talk to me in that tone,' said Van, meanly turning her poor words into a pretext for marching away.
'I apollo, I love you,' she whispered frantically, trying to cry after him in a whisper because the corridor was all door and ears, but he walked on, waving both arms in the air without looking back, quite forgivingly, though, and was gone."
- Ada, or Ardor — Vladimir Nabokov
