"I do not know; I never saw them in each other's company but twice in my life."
The youth breathed a little freer.
"Why did you ask, Paul?"
"No matter, Miriam. Oh! I was a wretch, a beast to think—"
"What, Paul?"
"There are such strange resemblances in—in—in—What are you looking at me so for, Miriam?"
"To find your meaning. In what, Paul—strange resemblances in what?"
"Why, in faces."
"Why, then, so there are—and in persons, also; and sometimes in fates; but we were talking of handwritings, Paul."
"Were we? Oh, true. I am not quite right, Miriam. I believe I have confined myself too much, and studied too hard. I am really out of sorts; never mind me! Please hand me those foreign letters, love."