"There is no chance for her?"—no trace of the passionate outburst of an instant before remained. The question came low, hesitating—more like an assertion combined with a wistful appeal for contradiction.
It took Regan longer to recover himself, and it was a minute before he answered. Then he shook his head.
"She'll be stone blind in a month," he said gruffly.
Marley's eyes came up to the master mechanic's—and dropped instantly with their habitual little flutter.
"Ain't no doubt, no chance of a mistake?" he ventured.
Again Regan shook his head.
"Not a chance. The best man we could find East made the examination. We're arranging to get her into an institute—a home for the blind somewhere."
"I thought you would"—Marley's voice was monotonous. "That's what she was talking about, wasn't it?"
"Yes," said Regan.
Marley wagged his head with a judicial air.
"That'll kill her," he remarked, as though stating a self-evident, but commonplace, fact. "That'll kill her."
"I'm afraid it will," the master mechanic admitted gravely. "But there's nothing else to do. It's impossible for her to stay here. She's got to have some one to look after her, and she has no money. God knows I wish we could, but we can't see any other way than put her in some place like that."
