Well, that is remedied." She shook her head, and did not return the reassuring pressure of his hand.

"Listen!" she said.

"This misery comes through the person whom he who has seen the vision shall next meet; and I thought I knew who I should meet on my way home--one from whom"-- she sank her voice to a whisper--"I already expected misery." "You mean--" began Richard, eagerly.
"No matter whom I mean.

It was not he who met me; that was _you_." The hand which he held in his was cold as ice; her face was pale; and her limbs trembled under her.
"This is folly, Harry dear.

Am I likely to do you harm, to make you miserable ?" "I do not know," said she.