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THE SONG IN THE DARK 75 the bandage from her maimed eyes. These were the words her waiting family heard as they gathered close to listen, and they fell on the ears of Richard with a piteous, wailing sound. Angela's eyes — and night — and night Then came a low, sobbing cry—a cry infinitely sad, passionately renunciatory: "Richard, my dear one, my dear one—I am blind " "Dear"—the tender, tremulous fingers rested still against his cheek— "dear, I know—you must not let my life embitter yours. It would if we should—should marry, dear; please —good-by!" Deeper than the renun- ciation of the light of her eyes came the giving up of love—the eternal parting from this man who was to have been to her life's best fulfillment. RICHARD, MY DEAR ONE, MY DEAR ONE 1 AM BLIND- And then her groping flower-hands over his face, seeking, asking, need- ing. And then his kiss—a kiss that left him shamed while the hot tears fell, for the tears were for himself as well as for her. "With a terrible clarity, he faced the stretch of years: the pathos his life would be tinted with—the sad dependence of her—the dreadful, aching pity of it all. With a man's loathing for the doleful, the tears of humanity, he shrank. And, shamed, reluctant, dazed, Rich- ard left the room. Outside, on the broad stairway, George was standing, lips grimly compressed. "What has she said?" he asked, as Richard came down, and his eyes glinted as the man extended the diamond circlet, mutely. His keen, lawyer eyes probed the truth, even while the man-heart of him was forced to understanding. He clapped Dick's bowed shoulders and faced