(Background: Night of March 29, 1794, Edith changed her mind and went into exile with Raphael.)

The following is a part of the original text:

With a jarring and quivering sound of the bowstring, the impassioned music abruptly ceased. Edith awakened from the dreamlike melancholy, her eyes fluttering open and closed, as hot tears welled up and streamed down. Her heart felt empty, yet a sense of relief washed over her.

Unconsciously, she approached Raphael, her lips shivering, wanting to plead for him to continue. But the violin suddenly crashed to the ground; the bewitching melody of this elegy all at once overwhelmed the despairing performer, who finally couldn''t contain himself any longer, burying his face in his elbow.

His agitated state frightened her, yet also infected her soul, making her unable to resist the urge to draw closer to him.

Suddenly, Raphael cast aside the bow in his hand and forcibly embraced Edith in his arms, pressing her bosom tightly against his chest, kissing her lips in a frenzy.

"Raphael!" she cried out in alarm, but was immediately enveloped by the scorching heat of his lips.

She reached out to push his shoulder, but her efforts were feeble. Like a drowning man gasping for his last breath of faint air from the surface, he greedily and hopelessly drank from her lips and tongue, blind to everything else.

Their noses collided as his hand pressed her turning head towards his own lips like mad. Edith tasted the salty bitterness of their mingled tears, her mind becoming even more disoriented and bewildered.

"Raphael!" She finally regained some strength, her voice taking on a calm tone of persuasion.

This time, Raphael didn''t struggle anymore. He allowed her to push him onto the writing desk, tilting his head to the side, the expression on his face resembling someone who had just committed homicide. A strand of disheveled golden hair from their previous passion h