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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"A Pair of Blue Eyes"


Loving him in secret had not seemed such thorough-going
inconstancy as the same love recognized and acted upon in the face
of threats. Her distraction was interpreted by him at her side as
the outward signs of an unwonted experience.
'I don't press you for an answer now, darling,' he said, seeing
she was not likely to give a lucid reply. 'Take your time.'
Knight was as honourable a man as was ever loved and deluded by
woman. It may be said that his blindness in love proved the
point, for shrewdness in love usually goes with meanness in
general. Once the passion had mastered him, the intellect had
gone for naught. Knight, as a lover, was more single-minded and
far simpler than his friend Stephen, who in other capacities was
shallow beside him.
Without saying more on the subject of their marriage, Knight held
her at arm's length, as if she had been a large bouquet, and
looked at her with critical affection.
'Does your pretty gift become me?' she inquired, with tears of
excitement on the fringes of her eyes.
'Undoubtedly, perfectly!' said her lover, adopting a lighter tone
to put her at her ease. 'Ah, you should see them; you look
shinier than ever. Fancy that I have been able to improve you!'
'Am I really so nice? I am glad for your sake. I wish I could see
myself.'
'You can't. You must wait till we get home.'
'I shall never be able,' she said, laughing. 'Look: here's a
way.


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