"Why, after dusk I went to my chamber as usual, and I took off my garter—you must, you know, or the charm will not work. It must be the left garter too, so I took it, and knit three knots in it, and then with my eyes shut I said the rhyme—"
"What rhyme?"
"Stupid! You don't seem to know anything. Why, this rhyme, of course,—
"'I knit this knot, this knot I knit
To know the thing I know not yet—
That I may see
The man that shall my husband be,
Not in his best or worst array
But what he weareth every day,