A woman entered, leading a young boy. The man uttered a loud exclamation and started toward her.
“Ana!”
He stopped short and stared down at the boy. Then he looked wonderingly at Carmen.
“Yes,” she said, stooping and lifting the boy up before Josè, “it is Anita’s babe––and he sees!”
The man clasped the child in his arms and buried his face in its hair.
Verily, upon them that sat in darkness had the Light shined.
CHAPTER 21
Another summer had come and gone. Through the trees in Central Park the afternoon sunlight, sifted and softened by the tinted autumn leaves, spread over the brown turf like a gossamer web. And it fell like a gentle benediction upon the massive figure of a man, walking unsteadily beneath the trees, holding the hand of a young girl whose beauty made every passer turn and look again.