Oh, my George!--my George!' It was with a leap of ecstasy that yet was pain, that she imagined to herself the coming of the first word from him.

Prisoners' letters came regularly--no doubt of that.

Why, the landlady at the hotel had a son who was at Ruhleben, and she heard once a month.

Nelly pictured the moment when the letter would be in her hand, and she would be looking at it.

Oh, no doubt it wouldn't be addressed by him! By the nurse perhaps--a German nurse--or another patient.