Quimby shook his head. He looked to be half asleep.
"It don't seem possible," he said. "No—it's all been buried so long—all the hope—all the plans—it don't seem possible it could ever come to life again."
"But it can, and it will," cried Kendrick. "I'm going to lay a stretch of track in Reuton with your joints. That's all you need—they'll have to use 'em then. Well force the Civic into it. We can do it, Quimby—we surely can."
Quimby rubbed his hand across his eyes.
"You'll lay a stretch of track " he repeated. "That s great news to me, Mr. Kendrick. I—I can t thank you now." His voice was husky. "I'll come back and take care of—him," he said, jerking his head toward the room up-stairs. "I got to go now—this minute—I got to go and tell my wife. I got to tell her what you've said.*
