“Yes, Hiliary died in 1860.”
And then the memory of the frail one would pass the gulf of all those years and she would touch the blind one with a caress.
“And when we got home again you had lost your sight!”
“Yes.”
“But, sis, it wasn’t because you were so lonely and cried so much! It couldn’t have been that!”
It was the question she had begged a thousand times. And the answer she was to have she had had as often:
“No.”
“For crying, no matter how much, will never hurt the sight?”
“No.”
“I don’t think Doctor Massey ever understood your case.”