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"Only someone at the front-door. Ply's always like that." "I didn't mean Ply. Listen! Be quiet." The room they were in was remote from the front-door of the house, and the voice they heard was no more than a musical modulation of silence. It had a power in it, for all that, to rouse the blind man to excitement. He had to put a restraint on himself to say quietly: "Suppose you go and see!
"I was jesting a minute ago, but now I am in earnest. I mean what I say. Your voice takes the load off my heart and the darkness off my brain, and we are standing again by that stone bridge over yonder Arthur's Bridge and I see you in all your beauty oh! such beauty as I look up from Ply's cut collar against the sunset sky.
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