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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"A Pair of Blue Eyes"

We both had a narrow escape. I wish we had died there!'
'Ah, but wait,' Stephen pleaded with wet eyes. 'She went on that
cliff to see me arrive home: she had promised it. She told me she
would months before. And would she have gone there if she had not
cared for me at all?'
'You have an idea that Elfride died for you, no doubt,' said
Knight, with a mournful sarcasm too nerveless to support itself.
'Never mind. If we find that--that she died yours, I'll say no
more ever.'
'And if we find she died yours, I'll say no more.'
'Very well--so it shall be.'
The dark clouds into which the sun had sunk had begun to drop rain
in an increasing volume.
'Can we wait somewhere here till this shower is over?' said
Stephen desultorily.
'As you will. But it is not worth while. We'll hear the
particulars, and return. Don't let people know who we are. I am
not much now.'
They had reached a point at which the road branched into two--just
outside the west village, one fork of the diverging routes passing
into the latter place, the other stretching on to East Endelstow.
Having come some of the distance by the footpath, they now found
that the hearse was only a little in advance of them.
'I fancy it has turned off to East Endelstow. Can you see?'
'I cannot. You must be mistaken.'
Knight and Stephen entered the village. A bar of fiery light lay
across the road, proceeding from the half-open door of a smithy,
in which bellows were heard blowing and a hammer ringing.


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