And more, the gaunt face of the blind old man, his bony hand trembling as he raised the cup to his lips, her mother and the Doctor managing silently to place everything he liked best near his plate.

Wasn't it all part of the fresh, hopeful glow burning in her consciousness?
It brightened and deepened.

It blotted out the hard, dusty path of the future, and showed warm and clear the success at the end.

Not much to show, you think.

Only the old home as it once was, full of quiet laughter and content; only her mother's eyes clear shining again; only that gaunt old head raised proudly, owing no man anything but courtesy.