stop the moment she came into the room. You know how many good qualities she had, and how attached she was to me, and I to her: well, I always kept her out of my sight as much as I could, when anything was the matter with me.
"Such is the sympathy of persons born under the same star, that, although living apart in distant places, they will still be sensible of each other's sufferings. When the Duke of York died, at the very hour, a cold sweat and a kind of fainting came over me, that I can't describe. I was ill beyond measure, and I said to Miss Williams, 'Somebody is dying somewhere, and I am sure it is one of my friends: so I made her write it down. Some time after, when she was poking over a set of newspapers, she came to me, and said, 'It's very singular, my lady; but, the time you were so very ill, and could not account for it, corresponds exactly with the date of the Duke of York's death—the hour, too, just the same!' Now, doctor, wasn't it extraordinary? You drawl out 'Y—e—s,' just as if you thought I told lies: oh, Lord! oh, Lord! what a cold man!
"The proof of sympathy between the stars of two persons, or, in other words, of the star of another being good for you, is, when a person puts his finger on you and you don't feel it. Zezefôon, when Mademoiselle Longchamp touches her with her fingers in
