" Dick looked puzzled and
a little irritated at the silence.
a little irritated at the silence.
Kipling - Poems
Dick
was sitting by the window, with his chin on his chest. There were three
envelopes in his hand, and he turned them over and over. The big man
who gave orders was no longer by her side, and the studio door snapped
behind her.
Dick thrust the letters into his pocket as he heard the sound. "Hullo,
Torp! Is that you? I've been so lonely. "
His voice had taken the peculiar flatness of the blind. Maisie pressed
herself up into a corner of the room. Her heart was beating furiously,
and she put one hand on her breast to keep it quiet. Dick was staring
directly at her, and she realised for the first time that he was blind.
Shutting her eyes in a rail-way carriage to open them when she pleased
was child's play. This man was blind though his eyes were wide open.
"Torp, is that you? They said you were coming.
" Dick looked puzzled and
a little irritated at the silence.
"No; it's only me," was the answer, in a strained little whisper. Maisie
could hardly move her lips.
"H'm! " said Dick, composedly, without moving. "This is a new phenomenon.
Darkness I'm getting used to; but I object to hearing voices. "
Was he mad, then, as well as blind, that he talked to himself? Maisie's
heart beat more wildly, and she breathed in gasps. Dick rose and began
to feel his way across the room, touching each table and chair as he
passed. Once he caught his foot on a rug, and swore, dropping on his
knees to feel what the obstruction might be. Maisie remembered him
walking in the Park as though all the earth belonged to him, tramping
up and down her studio two months ago, and flying up the gangway of the
Channel steamer. The beating of her heart was making her sick, and Dick
was coming nearer, guided by the sound of her breathing. She put out a
hand mechanically to ward him off or to draw him to herself, she did not
know which. It touched his chest, and he stepped back as though he had
been shot.
"It's Maisie!
was sitting by the window, with his chin on his chest. There were three
envelopes in his hand, and he turned them over and over. The big man
who gave orders was no longer by her side, and the studio door snapped
behind her.
Dick thrust the letters into his pocket as he heard the sound. "Hullo,
Torp! Is that you? I've been so lonely. "
His voice had taken the peculiar flatness of the blind. Maisie pressed
herself up into a corner of the room. Her heart was beating furiously,
and she put one hand on her breast to keep it quiet. Dick was staring
directly at her, and she realised for the first time that he was blind.
Shutting her eyes in a rail-way carriage to open them when she pleased
was child's play. This man was blind though his eyes were wide open.
"Torp, is that you? They said you were coming.
" Dick looked puzzled and
a little irritated at the silence.
"No; it's only me," was the answer, in a strained little whisper. Maisie
could hardly move her lips.
"H'm! " said Dick, composedly, without moving. "This is a new phenomenon.
Darkness I'm getting used to; but I object to hearing voices. "
Was he mad, then, as well as blind, that he talked to himself? Maisie's
heart beat more wildly, and she breathed in gasps. Dick rose and began
to feel his way across the room, touching each table and chair as he
passed. Once he caught his foot on a rug, and swore, dropping on his
knees to feel what the obstruction might be. Maisie remembered him
walking in the Park as though all the earth belonged to him, tramping
up and down her studio two months ago, and flying up the gangway of the
Channel steamer. The beating of her heart was making her sick, and Dick
was coming nearer, guided by the sound of her breathing. She put out a
hand mechanically to ward him off or to draw him to herself, she did not
know which. It touched his chest, and he stepped back as though he had
been shot.
"It's Maisie!