"You mean?"
"Even blacksmiths!"
And in a while, having finished my breakfast, I rose, and, taking my hat, bade Charmian "Good morning," and so came to the door. But on the threshold I turned and looked back at her. She had risen, and stood leaning with one hand on the table; now in the other she held the breadknife, and her eyes were upon mine.
And lo! wonder of wonders! once again, but this time sudden and swift—up from the round, full column of her throat, up over cheek and brow there rushed that vivid tide of color; her eyes grew suddenly deep and soft, and then were hidden 'neath her lashes—and, in that same moment, the knife slipped from her grasp, and falling, point downwards, stood quivering in the floor between us—an ugly thing that gleamed evilly.
Was this an omen—a sign vouchsafed of that which, dark and terrible, was, even then, marching to meet us upon this Broad Highway? O Blind, and more than blind!
Almost before it had ceased to quiver I stooped, and, plucking it from the floor, gave it into her hand. Now, as I did so, her fingers touched mine, and, moved by a sudden mad impulse, I stooped and pressed my lips upon them—kissed them quick and fierce, and so turned, and hurried upon my way.
Yet, as I went, I found that the knife had cut my chin, and that I was bleeding.
O Blind, and more than blind! Surely this was a warning, an omen to heed—to shiver over, despite the warm sun!
But, seeing the blood, I laughed, and strode villagewards, blithe of heart and light of foot.
O Blind, and more than blind!