Parkman had this from her from New York: "I am sailing
for Paris. I am going to work. I see it all now; all that you would have
me see, and more. Some day I will try to show you just how well I see it.
"I do not know how I am going to bear part of it--the going back where we
were so happy. But I _will_ bear it, for nothing shall keep me from the
work I see before me.
"Thank you--for all that you have done, and most of all for all that you
have been. My idea is all comprehended in this: To the very uttermost of
my power, I am going to make it right for Karl."
Six months later she wrote him this:
"Dear Doctor: Thank you for attending to those things for me. It
infuriated me at first to think that the only thing in money left by the
work of Karl's great life was the money from those books which I resented
so bitterly. But how wrong to see it that way--for Karl would be so happy
to know that the brave work he did after his blindness was helping me
now. But I never spend a dollar of this money without thinking of the
mood--the circumstances--out of which it was earned.
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