Then he became aware of a very strange sensation.

He felt as though something were flowing from that woman to him, some strange and concentrated power of thought which was changing into a kind of agony of joy.

The woman above him began to breathe quickly, in sighs as it were, and he knew that she was stirred; he knew that she was wondering.
"I cannot see his face, I cannot see his face!" she whispered in a strained, unnatural tone.

Then with some swift movement she lifted the shade that was over the lamp.

He, too, turned his head and opened his eyes.
Oh, God! there over him leant Isobel, clad in a nurse's robes--yes, Isobel--unless he were mad.
Next moment he knew that he was not mad, for she said one word, only one, but it was enough.
"Godfrey!" "Isobel!" he gasped.