She felt that there was astonishment in the pause. "Look the same? Does that matter?"
"Yes ... oh, yes, it matters! It matters more than anything else."
He must have been regarding her as if she were crazy. Suddenly she was glad that she had no eyes to see his bewilderment. And his contempt, which, she was sure, must be there too.
He said slowly, "I didn't realize. But, of course, we don't know how you did look. How can we make you look the same?"
"I don't know. But you must! You must!" Her voice rose, and she felt the pain in her throat as the new muscles constricted.
"You are getting hysterical," he said. "Stop thinking about this."
"But I can't stop thinking about it. It's the only thing I can think of! I don't want to look any different from the way I did before!"
He said nothing, and suddenly she felt tired. A moment before she had been so excited, so upset; and now—merely tired and sleepy. She wanted to go to sleep and forget it all. He must have given me a sedative, she thought. An injection? I didn't feel the prick of the needle, but maybe they don't use needles. Anyway, I'm glad he did. Because now I won't have to think, I won't be able to think—
She slept. When she awoke again, she heard a new voice. A voice she couldn't place. It said, "Hello, Margaret. Where are you?"