“Yes,” said the blind man, “same with you—touched bottom. Next time you come I’ll ’ave something on show that’ll please you, I think; and thank you for readin’.”
“Let me know if it bores you.”
“I will,” said the blind man, following without movement the footsteps of his visitor that died away.
3 §
Christmas night—wild and windy, a shower spattering down in the street; Late—299 walking two yards before his wife, their son walking two yards behind his mother. A light figure, furred to the ears, in a doorway watching for them.
“Come along, darling. Sorry we had to bring him.”
“Of course you had to, Jack!”
“Look! He can’t even walk with mother. It’s a disease. He went to church to-day, and all through the sermon never took his eyes off—the poor old vicar nearly broke down.”
“What was it about?”