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