As we stepped in I heard rapid breathing, which told me that we were in a sick chamber, and then a man's voice, very husky and weak, saying:
"Is that you, Agnes?"
"It's only me, dear," said Angela..
After a moment she turned up the solitary gas-jet, which had been burning low, and I saw the shadowy form of a man lying in a bed that stood in a corner. He was wasted with consumption, his long bony hands were lying on the counterpane, his dark hair was matted over his forehead as from sweat, but I could not mistake the large, lively grey eyes that looked out of his long thin face. It was Father Giovanni.
Angela went up to him and kissed him, and I could see that his eyes lighted with a smile as he saw her coming into the room.
"There's somebody with you, isn't there?" he said.
"Yes. Who do you think it is?"
"Who?"
"Don't you remember little Margaret Mary at the Sacred Heart?"
"Is this she?"