Will you read me something for half an hour, Emily ?' By this means he would avoid talking, and he knew that the girl was always delighted by the request.

She generally read poetry of a kind she thought might touch him, longing to establish more of intellectual sympathy between him and herself.

So she did to-night.

Hood scarcely followed after the first line; he became lost in feverish brooding.

When she laid the volume down, he looked up and held out his hand to her.
She, at all events, would not disregard his caress; indeed, Emily took the hand and kissed it.
Then began one of the more intimate conversations which sometimes took place between them.