‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. I know nothing about the matter, but I feel convinced that you are right.
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