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—[Compassionately.] Yes, you always were—and you suffering so much, too!

—[Musingly.] So I used to stare out over the fields to the hills, out there—[He points to the horizon] and somehow after a time I’d forget any pain I was in, and start dreaming. I knew the sea was over beyond those hills,—the folks had told me—and I used to wonder what the sea was like, and try to form a picture of it in my mind. [With a smile.] There was all the mystery in the world to me then about that—far-off sea—and there still is! It called to me then just as it does now. [After a slight pause.] And other times my eyes would follow this road, winding off into the distance, toward the hills, as if it, too, was searching for the sea. And I’d promise myself that when I grew up and was strong, I’d follow that road, and it and I would find the sea together. [With a smile.] You see, my making this trip is only keeping that promise of long ago.

—[Charmed by his low, musical voice telling the dreams of his childhood.] Yes, I see.

—Those were the only happy moments of my life then, dreaming there at the window. I liked to be all alone—those times. I got to know all the different kinds of sunsets by heart—the clear ones and the cloudy ones, and all the color schemes of their countless variations—although I could hardly name more than three or four colors correctly. And all those sunsets took place over there—[He points] beyond the horizon. So gradually I came to believe