It was the shock, I suppose.
Shock is a natural concomitant of injury, often relatively minor injury.
And the blade was really sharp.
Sweet.
Only that morning I had honed up a really good edge with a piece of damp emery.
Shock and pain.
It set in almost as soon as I had cut off the end of the finger.
Absently cutting the sandwiches in half, my index finger was a little present.
Shock, pain, and annoyance.
Annoyance with my carelessness.
And the knowledge that it, and everything else, will feel funny for days.
But I put it down to the shock, really.
The shock did not even begin to recede until I had drunk the tea.
And eaten the sandwiches.
Only then did it occur to me to look for the severed end.