"Yes, my child, it seems to be raining," said Nela with a gulping sob.
"No—you are crying.—Something in my heart tells me so. You are goodness itself; your soul and mine are united by some divine and mysterious bond; they can never be parted—is it not true? they are two halves of one whole.—Are they not?"
"Quite true."
"Your tears give me a plainer answer than words could. You love me do you not, and will always love me, just the same whether I recover my sight or remain blind?"
"The same, just the same!" cried Nela vehemently.
"And will always stay with me?"
"Always."
"Then listen," cried the blind lad in passionate rapture. "If I had to choose between remaining blind and losing you, I would choose...."
"You would choose to remain blind! Oh! merciful Mother of Heaven! how happy—how happy I am!"
"I would choose not to see your sweet face with these eyes, for I can see it in my soul as clearly as truth. You live here, in my heart, and to me you are more lovely and enchanting than anything on earth."