ey never touched his heart; a smile sometimes
broke the perfect lines of her lips, but never reached those eyes; the
natural play of her features seemed to be checked; she appeared to be
as incapable of tears as of laughter, of grief as of joy; no rush of
warm blood ever tinted the strange pallor of her cheeks with crimson;
her voice was rich and full, but there was a jarring note in its
melancholy music; the girl was like marble--breathing, moving, living,
but marble still.

The Doctor waited for her to speak; but, either from perversity or
indifference, she stood like a statue, and would not even raise her
eyes. He was forced to break the silence, which embarrassed him, and he
knew that he spoke awkwardly.

"I think," he said, "that you wished to speak to me?"

"Yes, sir, if you please."

This was another anomaly--her words were always of a meek and
submissive character, but her voice, her look, her gestures were those
of a queen. The Doctor felt this, but hardly its incongruity, as she
slowly resumed her seat and signed to him to be seated also.

"I am quite at your service, of course," he replied, as he sat down;
"but first let me ask how you are feeling?"

"I am well," she answered, gravely. "A little weak, still, perhaps, but
it will pass. I wish--ah, pardon me, I am forgetting that I am not to
thank you, sir!"

She had attempted to thank him before, when she first recovered her
senses and realized her position, but he had sensitively deprecated
that. On that same day she had told him her name, told him that she was
French, that in England she was friendless, and that of what little she
possessed she had been robbed by the man whom he had seen attack her--a
man whom she had never seen before; and this was all that he knew about
her. He wanted to know more, but he sat before her wondering how to
phrase his questions. In spite of his curiosity he would have deferred
them had it been possible, but it was not possible; and he broke the
silence timidly, for as he spoke she looked at him full in the face
with her dark eyes.

"Miss Boucheafen, if you are strong enough to allow of it--"

"As I said, sir, I am well."

"I must, with your permission, ask you a few questions." He hesitated,
almost confused under her steady gaze. "I am presuming that you would
rather reply to me than be questioned by a police-officer?"

"I do prefer it, sir."

"Then," said the Doctor, "this man who so murderously attacked you--y