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anger at the dull course of fate, but also sympathy for her lack of
understanding--a sympathy near akin to pity.
"
Dear," he said, and he could see by her whiteness how
tensely her spirit pressed against the things she could not say.
He put his arms about her, he kissed her ear, and they sat for a
time in silence.
"
If I were to consent to this?" he said at last, in a voice
that was very gentle.
She flung her arms about him, weeping wildly. "Oh, if you
would," she sobbed, "if only you would!"
For a week before the operation that was to raise him from his
servitude and inferiority to the level of a blind citizen Nunez
knew nothing of sleep, and all through the warm, sunlit hours,
while the others slumbered happily, he sat brooding or wandered
aimlessly, trying to bring his mind to bear on his dilemma. He had
given his answer, he had given his consent, and still he was not
sure. And at last work-time was over, the sun rose in splendour
over the golden crests, and his last day of vision began for him.
He had a few minutes with Medina-sarote before she went apart to
sleep.
"
To-morrow," he said, "I shall see no more."
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