“Where shall I begin? If you had any sense, no explanation would be required.”
“And if I haven’t, it’s my misfortune and not my fault, so don’t throw it at me. Begin at the beginning.”
Varrell stretched himself out in an easy-chair. “Well, you know that I am a little deaf.”
“I used to think so,” replied Melvin, “but these things that have occurred lately don’t seem to indicate it.”
“Three years ago I had the scarlet fever,” went on Varrell, paying no attention to the comment, “and it left my ears in bad condition. There is no use in going into the details of the case; it is enough to say that at one time the outlook was pretty bad and there was a general fear that I should become worse instead of better. My mother was greatly worried about me and consulted all sorts of people who are supposed to know about such cases. Some said that the deafness would increase, others that it might decrease if my general health improved. As the chances were apparently against me, they put me through a thorough course of lip-reading with the idea that if my deafness actually did increase, it would then be harder for me to learn. Luckily, my hearing gradually improved as I got better, and an operation put me ahead still farther, so that now I can hear, if not as well as you, at least decently well.”
“And you still kept up the lip-reading?”
“I had to. Much that I was not quite clear about, I could make out with the use of my eyes. I finally got a kind of mixed sense; my eye helped out my ear, and my whole impression was due to them both. So I’ve used it right along.”
“But is it a thing you can really count on?” asked Dick. “I’ve always supposed that lip-reading was a hit-or-miss guessing at what people were saying.”
“It is guessing as reading print is guessing, only in lip-reading there is greater chance for mistake, for two very different words are sometimes expressed with exactly the same appearance of the lips. Still, I’ve seen some very clever lip-readers. I knew a bank teller who had suddenly lost his hearing, who was able in three months to do all the work of his position in two or three languages. That’s where I’m handicapped. I’m used only to English. That’s why I can’t do anything in Pearson’s classes when he reads French aloud.”
“And Richardson’s mop of a mustache must be an obstacle.”