As it seemed, she was making an effort to speak to him.
'Louder,' he said.

'I can't hear you.' She struggled to recover possession of herself.

A faint light began to soften the dull cold stare of her eyes.

In a moment more she spoke so that he could hear her.
'I never thought of the other world,' she murmured, in low dull tones, like a woman talking in her sleep.
Her mind had gone back to the day of her last memorable interview with Agnes; she was slowly recalling the confession that had escaped her, the warning words which she had spoken at that past time.

Necessarily incapable of understanding this, Francis looked at her in perplexity.
She went on in the same dull vacant tone, steadily following out her own train of thought, with her heedless eyes on his face, and her wandering mind far away from him.
'I said some trifling event would bring us together the next time.