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"Then you are very unhappy?" asked the priest, after a silence

"I am very cold," she replied

She took her feet in her hands, a gesture habitual with unhappy wretches who are cold, as we have already seen in the case of the recluse of the Tour-Roland, and her teeth chattered

The priest appeared to cast his eyes around the dungeon froht! without fire! in the water! it is horrible!"

"Yes," she replied, with the bewildered air which unhappiness had given her "The day belongs to every one, why do they give ht?"

"Do you know," resumed the priest, after a fresh silence, "why you are here?"

"I thought I knew once," she said, passing her thin fingers over her eyelids, as though to aid her an to weep like a child

"I should like to get away from here, sir I am cold, I am afraid, and there are creatures which crawl over , the priest took her arirl was frozen to her very soul Yet that hand produced an impression of cold upon her

"Oh!" she murmured, "'tis the icy hand of death Who are you?"

The priest threw back his cowl; she looked It was the sinister visage which had so long pursued her; that demon's head which had appeared at la Falourdel's, above the head of her adored Phoebus; that eye which she last had seen glittering beside a dagger

This apparition, always so fatal for her, and which had thus driven her on from misfortune to misfortune, even to torture, roused her from her stupor It seemed to her that the sort of veil which had lain thick upon her memory was rent away All the details of her melancholy adventure, from the nocturnal scene at la Falourdel's to her condeer vague and confused as heretofore, but distinct, harsh, clear, palpitating, terrible These souvenirs, half effaced and al, were revived by the soure which stood before her, as the approach of fire causes letters traced upon white paper with invisible ink, to start out perfectly fresh It seemed to her that all the wounds of her heart opened and bled simultaneously