"It is very bright indeed, Señorito mio. But what does it matter that you cannot see it? The sun is not at all pretty; you cannot look in its face."
"Why not?"
"Because it hurts."
"Hurts what?"
"Hurts the eyes. How do you feel when you are happy?"
"When I am out with you, just we two together in the fields?"
"Yes."
"Oh! I feel inside me a sort of freshness, a springing up of something sweet and soothing...."
"That is just it; now you know how the sun shines bright."
"What with freshness?"