So again she sat her in her chair and she took her basket from the table; and, with another glance at me--a glance half shy and wholly sweet--she drew forth, from some secret place, her sewing. And I sat watching her, a tender smile upon my face--or what passed for that--Eve seemed to like it--and I thought my thoughts. They were pleasant thoughts. And Eve’s sewing--it was as if she were dressing a doll. As I watched her fingers moving skillfully, but with no haste, I marveled that she sewed so well; and as I watched her face I marveled yet again. For her face was filled with love--a love that was not for me--filled with love and a great yearning. And all that love she seemed to sew into the little thing within her hands. But ever she had more, that each stitch was done with it and yet it grew with every stitch she took. And again Eve glanced up at me. I did but smile the more, until I grinned like any Cheshire cat. “Eve,” I said, “how do you know that they will fit”--I considered, and saw nothing else for it--“how do you know that they will fit it?” But I was wrong. “_It!_” she cried. “_It!_ Adam, I take shame to myself that you would so call your first-born. _Him_, sir. I am sure of it.” She put her sewing down, tenderly, and came to me. And her arms were around my neck and her face was hidden on my shoulder. “Adam, Adam,” she whispered, “my love for him is become so big, it hurts. How can I bear to wait all the long months until I see him--my son? How can I, Adam?” And I--what could I do--or say? What but comfort her as best I might? And God knows I had the best will in the world to it, but the fashion of it was poor enough. “In the fullness of time, Eve,” I whispered. “In the fullness of time.” But she seemed to take some comfort from my words--or mayhap the intent. So she lay as she was, but in some while she went back to her sewing again. She held it up, for me to see; and I could but wonder that any piece of humanity should be such a morsel as to go into that garment. I said as much. But Eve only smiled and fell to sewing--her eyes very bright. As Eve sewed, I fell to musing on what she said about my neighbors. For she was right, as she was ever, and I had not seen the good that was in them--I had not been at the pains to see it, though I knew it was there; and I had flattered myself that I had held my peace, and thereby had proved me a man of understanding. And I saw plainly--I might as well have stood upon the corner of the street and cried aloud unto Heaven, giving thanks that I was not as other men--until the bubble of my conceit had been pricked by Eve--and how gently! And presently the candles were burned low, and Eve, glancing at them, put her sewing by, and I knew that the time was come for me to cover the fire. That done, I took the hand that Eve held out and I blew out the candles, and I was moved to kiss the hand I held.