"You can pay nice compliments," I said, laughing. He bowed his head gravely—a very fine and shapely head I noticed it was too, set well on a neck and shoulders that betokened the trained athlete.
"Now, doctor, Miss Selwyn can't generally stay loitering very long among us Mill Roaders, and p'raps we'd better get our business done up right away. Anyway if Mr. Bowen is anything like me, he's getting fidgetty by this time to know if he's likely to get to them big city doctors."
"I have grown too intimate with patience to be so easily disturbed," he said, gently.
"You would like to get your sight?" I questioned. He spoke so calmly, the thought occurred he might have grown to love the hush of darkness. His face flushed. I never knew before or since a person of his years who colored so easily.
"Only God can know how I have longed to see the light, and the face of my fellow man; but I had no hope until Death opened my eyes."
His voice trembled with emotion.
"What a privilege to give that man his sight," I murmured to the doctor.
"The privilege belongs to you, I believe."
"Oh, no indeed. I was thinking of the skill of your profession. It seems almost God-like."
"We do our work mainly for money. In this case I am told you supply that."