"Yet you fainted a little while ago."
"Then it was very foolish of me."
"Poor—" she hesitated, and looking up at her through the trickling water, I saw that she was smiling.
"—fellow!" said she. And her lips were very sweet, and her eyes very soft and tender—for an Amazon.
And, when she had washed the blood from my face, she went to fetch clean water from where I kept it in a bucket in the corner.
Now, at my elbow, upon the table, lay the knife, a heavy, clumsy contrivance I had bought to use in my carpentry, and I now, mechanically, picked it up. As I did so the light gleamed evilly upon its long blade.
"Put it down!" she commanded; "put it away—it is a hateful thing!"
"For a woman's hand," I added, "so hideously unfeminine!"
"Some men are so hatefully—hideously—masculine!" she retorted, her lip curling. "I expected—him—and you are terribly like him."
"As to that," said I, "I may have the same colored eyes and hair, and be something of the same build—"