"No edge! This sword will shave like a razor. Look here."
He touched the palm of his hand with the blade, and then, lifting it, showed her a thin shaving of scarf-skin dangling therefrom.
"But you said before beginning that it was blunt and couldn't cut me!"
"That was to get you to stand still, and so ensure your safety. The risk of injuring you through your moving was too great not to compel me to tell you an untruth to obviate it."
She shuddered. "I have been within an inch of my life, and didn't know it!"
"More precisely speaking, you have been within half an inch of being pared alive two hundred and ninety-five times."
"Cruel, cruel, 'tis of you!"
"You have been perfectly safe nevertheless. My sword never errs." And Troy returned the weapon to the scabbard.
Bathsheba, overcome by a hundred tumultuous feelings resulting from the scene, abstractedly sat down on a tuft of heather.
"I must leave you now," said Troy softly. "And I'll venture to take and keep this in remembrance of you."
She saw him stoop to the winding lock which he had grass, pick up the severed from her
