country. Just think! just think! that boy to feel that, the way he lies
there!"

"Poor boy! Poor, poor boy!"

"Gerald's like that. So--so full of faith. And, Wheeler, he thinks he's
going to get well and lead a useful life like they teach the blind to
do. He reminds me of one of those Greek statues down at the Athens Café.
You know--broken. That's it; he's a broken statue."

"Poor fellow! Poor fellow! Do something for him. Buy the finest fruit in
the town for him. Send a case of wine. Two."

"I--I think I must be torn to pieces inside, Wheeler, the way I've
cried."

"Poor little girl!"

"Wheeler?"

"Now, now," he said; "taking it so to heart won't do no good. It's
rotten, I know, but worrying won't help. Got me right upset, too. Come,
get it off your mind. Let's take a ride. Doll up; you look a bit peaked.
Come now, and to-morrow we'll buy out the town for him."

"Wheeler?" she said. "Wheeler?"

"What?"

"Don't look, Wheeler. I've something else to ask of you--something