We gathered around her. A flat gray twilight was in the room. Dolores sat in the bed. Her long, dark tresses fell forward over her white shoulders.
My breath came fast. To see the light, form, color, the world, for the first time!
Very slowly, gently, Dr. Weatherby unwound the bandages. They dropped from his trembling hands to the bed.
“Now, Dolores, open your eyes, just a little.”
The dark lashes on her cheeks fluttered up, and closed instantly against the light. She could see!
Her eyes opened again, timidly, fearfully. But they stayed open, glorious dark eyes, luminous, eyes that were seeing! Eyes with light in them.
They opened very wide. Surprised, wondering!
“I see! I see!” There were no words to express her emotion. Just surprise and awe surging in her voice, stamped on her face. “I see! Jim, is that you, Jim? Why, that’s Jim I see!” Her hand went to her eyes as though to clear a blurring vision. “That . . . must be Jim. Come here, Jim. I want to see you closer.”
He fell on his knees beside the bed, and her hands went to his shoulders, his face, his hair.
“Jim, it is you! It looks like you!”