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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"The Hidden Places"

He wanted to know how great a measure
of her sight would return, and in what time. He did not belittle the
oculists because they had once mistaken. Neither did Doris, when she
recovered from the excitement engendered by the definite assurance
that her eyes were ever so slightly resuming their normal function.
She did believe that her sight was being restored naturally, as torn
flesh heals or a broken bone knits, and she was doubtful if any eye
specialist could help that process. But she agreed in the end that it
would be as well to know if anything could be done and what would aid
instead of retard her recovery.
"But not for awhile," she said. "It's just a glimmer. Wait a few
days. If this fog keeps clearing away, then we'll go."
They were sitting on their porch steps. Doris put her arms around him.
"When I can see, I'll be a real partner," she said happily. "There are
so many things I can do that can't be done without eyes. And half the
fun of living is in sharing the discoveries one makes about things
with some one else. Sight will give me back all the books I want to
read, all the beautiful things I want to see.


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