Ellen waited. Neither description seemed to fit Lanfair.
"If it weren't for him I'd be blind. I was shot once. My husband shot me when he was drunk. He was good-for-nothing. They gave up my eyes in the hospital, doctors and doctors examined me and gave me up, both my eyes, but he wouldn't have it. He watched me day after day, sitting sometimes for hours by me. They told me, when they took the bandage off, to look at the beautiful river." There was scorn in Fetzer's voice. "I looked at him. He was more to me than any river."
The multitude of her emotions kept Ellen silent.
"Jim's in jail for another year. He got a long term. I've often prayed that God would convert him and take him home. That's the only thing for him."
Ellen knew no consolatory word which seemed adequate.
"She thought I was stupid!" said she at last.
Fetzer answered coldly.
"I hope you won't be spited at that!"
"I'm not spited. Perhaps I am stupid."