We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. She had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. It hit her just above the knee.
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