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r your nails are grown like birds’ claws or not; I have not yet noticed。”
“On this arm; I have neither hand nor nails;” he said; drawing the mutilated limb from his breast; and showing it to me。 “It is a mere stump—a ghastly sight! Don’t you think so; Jane?”
“It is a pity to see it; and a pity to see your eyes—and the scar of fire on your forehead: and the worst of it is; one is in danger of loving you too well for all this; and making too much of you。”
“I thought you would be revolted; Jane; when you saw my arm; and my cicatrised visage。”
“Did you? Don’t tell me so—lest I should say something disparaging to your judgment。 Now; let me leave you an instant; to make a better fire; and have the hearth swept up。 Can you tell when there is a good fire?”
“Yes; with the right eye I see a glow—a ruddy haze。”
“And you see the candles?”
“Very dimly—each is a luminous cloud。”
“Can you see me?”
“No; my fairy: but I am only too thankful to hear and feel you。”
“When do you take supper?”
“I never take supper。”
“But you shall have some to…night。 I am hungry: so are you; I daresay; only you forget。”
Summoning Mary; I soon had the room in more cheerful order: I prepared him; likewise; a fortable repast。 My spirits were excited; and with pleasure and ease I talked to him during supper; and for a long time after。 There was no harassing restraint; no repressing of glee and vivacity with him; for with him I
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