So much was high comedy, I must confess; but so soon as my eyes lighted full on her dark face and eloquent eyes, the blood leaped into my cheeks--and that was nature! I thanked them, but not the least with exultation; it was my cue to be mournful, and to take the pair of them as one.
'I have been thinking,' I said, 'you have been so good to me, both of you, stranger and prisoner as I am, that I have been thinking how I could testify to my gratitude.

It may seem a strange subject for a confidence, but there is actually no one here, even of my comrades, that knows me by my name and title.

By these I am called plain Champdivers, a name to which I have a right, but not the name which I should bear, and which (but a little while ago) I must hide like a crime.

Miss Flora, suffer me to present to you the Vicomte Anne de Keroual de Saint-Yves, a private soldier.' 'I knew it!' cried the boy; 'I knew he was a noble!' And I thought the eyes of Miss Flora said the same, but more persuasively.

All through this interview she kept them on the ground, or only gave them to me for a moment at a time, and with a serious sweetness.
'You may conceive, my friends, that this is rather a painful confession,' I continued.