‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. He did not speak for a moment. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. “I want to know who you are.
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