There is one
thing on which you and I are going to stand very firmly together. That
thing,"--with the deep quiet of finality--"is that Karl shall go on with
his work."
Dr. Parkman had never been handled that way before; perhaps it was its
newness which fascinated him; at any rate he seemed unable to say the
things he felt he should be saying.
"Dr. Parkman, the only weak people in this world are the people who sit
down and say that things are impossible. The only big people are the
people who stand up and declare in the face of whatsoever comes that
nothing is impossible. For Karl there is some excuse; the shock has been
too great--his blindness has shut him in. But you and I are out in the
light of day, doctor, and I say that you and I have been weaklings long
enough."
He had never been called a weakling before--he had never thought to be
called a weakling, but the strangeness of that was less strange than
something in her eyes, her voice, her spirit, which seemed drawing him
on.
"Karl has lost his eyes.
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