away, for fun; and because I don't like being left all alone in the dark street."
"You queer child! Besides it isn't dark a bit here—there's a lovely moon."
She gave a little shiver, and was silent.
"Why don't you take your beer?" and I offered her the jug once more.
She groped towards me and put her hands on my shoulders turning those large dull eyes up to mine.
"Can't you see I'm blind?" said she impatiently.
*****
"It's rather wet to sit here to-night"—and I looked doubtfully at the doorway up which the wind blew the rain in gusts. She sat down on the top step, and spread her dress over the damp stone.
"Sit down here; we can lean against the pillar and be as dry as anything."
"How did you know there was a pillar?"
She pouted contemptuously. "Do you think I haven't my ways of seeing as well as you? I could describe this street much better than you for all your wonderful sight; besides, I found out all about this particular doorway that night when you first went and got the beer."
"Mind the jug!" I cried; but I was too late; for with a sweep of her arm the jug toppled over, and the beer rushed down the steps across the pavement into the gutter. She bit her lip. "Now don't crow over me: it doesn't follow that I shouldn't have done it even if I could see."
I kissed her forehead lightly.
"Never mind, dear heart; sit still. I won't be long getting some more."
