“Yours?” I ask’d.
“Ours,” Edith said,
“Ay, ay; our families have been friends for years.”
But spite her careless tone, her eyes appear’d,
Slipping through lashes long, to shun my own.
And why was this?—And why, too, had she flush’d?—
What subtle weapon had been used to cut
Beneath the surface of her mien, and bring
The heart-blood from its core?
Then I recall’d