She walks about with her eyes shut, expecting not to stumble, and when she does, am I to blame?
The injured man asks it in the course of his reasoning.
He recurs to his victim's merits, but only compassionately, and the compassion is chilled by the thought that she may in the end start across his path to thwart him.

Thereat he is drawn to think of the prize she may rob him of; and when one woman is an obstacle, the other shines desirable as life beyond death; he must have her; he sees her in the hue of his desire for her, and the obstacle in that of his repulsion.
Cruelty is no more than the man's effort to win the wished object.
She should not leave it to his imagination to conceive that in the end the blind may awaken to thwart him.

Better for her to cast him hence, or let him know that she will do battle to keep him.

But the pride of a love that has hardened in the faithfulness of love cannot always be wise on trial.
Caseldy walked considerably in the rear of the couple of chairs.

He saw on his way what was coming.