"Thinking of me!" exclaimed Basil in amazement.
"You will not consider it strange," said the woman, "when you know all. I could not stop at home; I have been sitting by her side since three o'clock, and then a voice whispered to me, 'Go out for an hour, look up to Heaven where the Supreme Guide is, and pray for a miracle.' So I came out, and have been praying to Him to give her back to me."
"Poor woman!" murmured Basil, for now he knew from her words that she had lost one who was dear to her. "I pity you from my heart."
"You are changed," said the woman; "not in face, for I should have known you anywhere, but in your voice and manner. It is gentler, kinder than it used to be."
Basil did not answer her: he thought that grief had affected her mind, and that her words bore no direct relation to himself. He had no suspicion of the truth which was subsequently to be revealed to him.
"It is many years since we met," she said. "Have you been long in England?"
"A few months," said Basil.
"You have not made your fortune?
"No, indeed."
"You look poor enough. Have you no money?"