He was old and haggard, and thin, and grey, and very dirty; but there came a smile over his face as he also recognised her.

He could not speak to her, for he had to take up a verse in the hymn, and drawl out the words which were to set the crowd singing, and Nina had retired back again before he was silent.

But she knew that he had known her, and she almost felt that she had found a friend who would be kind to her.

On the morrow, when inquiry would be made--and aunt Sophie would certainly be loud in her inquiries--this friar would be able to give some testimony respecting her.
She passed on altogether across the bridge, in order that she might reach the spot she desired without observation--and perhaps also with some halting idea that she might thus postpone the evil moment.

The figure of St John Nepomucene rested on the other balustrade of the bridge, and she was minded to stand for a while under its shadow.