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"Thank Heaven for science!" said old Yacob, and went forth at
once to tell Nunez of his happy hopes.
But Nunez's manner of receiving the good news struck him as
being cold and disappointing.
"
One might think," he said, "from the tone you take that you
did not care for my daughter."
It was Medina-sarote who persuaded Nunez to face the blind
surgeons.
"You do not want me," he said, "to lose my gift of sight?"
She shook her head.
"My world is sight."
Her head drooped lower.
"There are the beautiful things, the beautiful little
things--the flowers, the lichens amidst the rocks, the light and
softness on a piece of fur, the far sky with its drifting dawn of
clouds, the sunsets and the stars. And there is you. For
you alone it is good to have sight, to see your sweet, serene face,
your kindly lips, your dear, beautiful hands folded together. . . . .
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