A second time, she passed her hand over him--considered again--and turned my way next.
"What does his face tell _you ?_" she asked.

"It tells _me_ that he has something on his mind.

What is it ?" We were safe--so far! The hateful medicine, in altering the color, had not affected the texture, of his skin.

As her touch had left it on her departure, so her touch found it again, on her return.
Before I could reply to Lucilla, Oscar answered for himself.
"Nothing is wrong, my darling," he said.

"My nerves are a little out of order to-day; and the joy of seeing you again has overcome me for the moment--that is all." She shook her head impatiently.
"No," she said, "it's not all." She touched his heart.