"What do you mean?"
"He's coming home. He's—blind."
Keith leaped from his chair.
"BLIND? JOHN McGUIRE?"
"Yes."
"Oh-h-h!" Long years of past suffering and of future woe filled the short little word to bursting, as Keith dropped back into his chair. For a moment he sat silent, his whole self held rigid. Then, unsteadily he asked the question:
"What—happened?"
"They don't know. It was a dispatch that came this mornin'. He was blinded, an' is on his way home. That's all."
"That's—enough."
"Yes, I knew you'd—understand."