"Hearken to me, doctor," said I, "Donna Aurelia, your lady, is as it
were an angel of Heaven--and I"--I said it with sorrowful grimness--"and
I have better reason to know it than you."

He felt my touch, and recoiled from it: he looked at me half askance,
from under knitted brows and between blinking lids, as if he thought me
a spirit. "Paradise of God," says he then, "who is this?" His glance
lighted upon the cupboard doors set open; he frowned and said, with
difference: "And who are you that speak of angels?"

"Sir," I replied, and my convictions were never more firmly in my words,
"my name is Wretch, and I am unworthy to live. I am that vile thing once
called Francis Strelley, now brought to confusion and conscious of his
horrible offence. Sir! Sir!" I said wildly, "Donna Aurelia is the
handmaid of high Heaven.--While I, while I--O God!" emotion poured its
hot flood over me. I fell to my knees.

In the painful silence which ensued, and no doubt seemed longer than it
actually was, I suppose that he collected some half of the truth, and in
the manner of him who sees but half, distorted it to be greater than the
whole. His manner towards me altered very materially; he resumed his
authority.

"Get up," he said, croaking like a raven; and at first I thought that I
dared not, and immediately after knew that I dared. I sprang to my feet,
and faced him, livid as he was. "Doctor Lanfranchi," said I, "I have
overheard you-by accident--as you praised her. I have heard you call her
good. Ah, and in agreeing with you I can testify that you spoke more
truth than you dreamed of. No saint in Heaven is so good as she, but it