Her face was full of tenderest anxiety, yet there was also apparent a certain solemn gloom that well accorded with my own feelings.

As I looked at her she drew a long breath, and buried her face in her hands.
After a time my recollection returned, and all came back to me.

I rose to a sitting posture.
"Do not rise yet," said Almah, anxiously; "you are weak." "No," said I; "I am as strong as ever; but I'm afraid that you are weaker." Almah shuddered.
"If you had told me exactly what it was, I would not have gone." "I could not tell you," said she.

"It is too terrible to name.

Even the thought is intolerable.