They reverted to the preceding misery.
"You're far luckier than I was," she remarked.

"You've had a comfy English house to be ill in.

I was in a stone-cold palazzo in Florence--in winter.

Ugh! Shall I ever forget it?
I don't want to speak evil of Italy to an Italian--" "I'm only Italian by descent," exclaimed Paul, with a laugh, his first frank laugh during the whole of that gloomy evening.

And he laughed louder than was necessary, for, as it suddenly dawned upon him that he did not in the least recall to her mind the grimy little Bludston boy, the cold hand of fear was dissolved in a warm gush of exultation.