There was a profound amazement in her voice.
“It’s only when I look at you,” he said, “that I know there are stars somewhere beyond the pit’s mouth.”
“When you look at me—now?”
“Yes.”
“But you are blind then?” she said.
“Or are the others blind?” he asked.
Instinctively, really without knowing what she did, she put up her hand to her face, touched it, and no longer felt that it was ugly. For a moment it seemed to her that her beauty was restored.
“What do you see?” she asked. “But—but it’s so dark here.”
“Not too dark to see a helping hand—if there is one,” he answered.
And he stretched out his arm into her boat and took her right hand from the oar it was holding.