Bill Masen stumbles upon a blind couple in an apartment building hallway, in The Day of the Triffids:
As I stepped outside, another door farther down the passage opened. I stopped, and stood still where I was. A young man came out, leading a fair-haired girl by the hand. As she stepped over the threshold he released his grasp.
“Wait just a minute, darling,” he said.
He took three or four steps on the silencing carpet. His outstretched hands found the window which ended the passage. His fingers went straight to the catch and opened it. I had a glimpse of a low-railed, ornamental balcony outside.
“What are you doing, Jimmy?” she asked.
“Just making sure,” he said, stepping quickly back to her and feeling for her hand again. “Come along, darling.”
She hung back.
“Jimmy– I don’t like leaving here. At least we know where we are in our own apartment. How are we going to feed? How are we going to live?”
“In the apartment, darling, we shan’t feed at all–and therefore not live long. Come along, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid.”
“But I am, Jimmy–I am.”
She clung to him, and he put one arm round her.
“We’ll be all right, darling. Come along.”
“But Jimmy, that’s the wrong way.”
“You’ve got it twisted around, dear. It’s the right way.”
“Jimmy–I’m so frightened. Let’s go back.”
“It’s too late, darling.”
By the window he paused. With one hand he felt his position very carefully. Then he put both arms around her, holding her to him.
“Too wonderful to last, perhaps,” he said softly. “I love you, my sweet. I love you so very, very much.”
She tilted her lips up to be kissed.
As he lifted her he turned, and stepped out of the window.
— John Wyndham, The Day of The Triffids
I really like how this scene plays out, even if the dialogue is a bit dodgy (does she really need to use his name every sentence?).