It is important.

Will you see to it, Rockwell ?" He thrust out a hand as though to find Rockwell's, and there was a gratitude and an appeal in the pressure of his fingers which went to Rockwell's heart.
"All right, Chief.

I'll have him here," Rockwell answered briskly, but with tears standing in his eyes.

Ingolby had, as it were, been stricken out of the active, sentient, companionable world into a world where he was alone, detached, solitary.

His being seemed suspended in an atmosphere of misery and helplessness.
"Blind! I am blind!" That was the phrase which kept beating with the pulses in Ingolby's veins, that throbbed, and throbbed, and throbbed like engines in a creaking ship which the storm was shaking and pounding in the vast seas between the worlds.