She raised her head and looked up at him. His face now was toward the light, and she knew it again. But she did not speak for a few moments which were a renewal of their former gaze at each other. At last she said in a low sweet voice, with an accent so distinct that it suggested foreignness and yet was not foreign, "I saw you before," and then added dreamily, after a like pause, "nella miseria."
Deronda, not understanding the connection of her thoughts, supposed that her mind was weakened by distress and hunger.
"It was you, singing?" she went on, hesitatingly--"Nessun maggior dolore." The mere words themselves uttered in her sweet undertones seemed to give the melody to Deronda's ear.

She raised her head and looked at him. But she did not speak for a few moments, while they renewed their former gaze at each other. At last she said in a low sweet voice, with an accent that suggested foreignness and yet was not foreign, "I saw you before," and then added dreamily, "nella miseria. It was you, singing? Nessun maggior dolore." The mere words uttered in her sweet undertones seemed to give the melody to Deronda's ear.
