Thought you might want to listen. She moved her head, averting her face
slightly, almost as though the powerful beam of the flashlight was
causing discomfort, but her voice was pleased.
Oh yes. I love that big growly sound. Where do you suppose this one is
from? David switched out the flashlight and slipped back into bed
beside her.
Probably coming up from the south. I bet he has dug a hole under the
fence you could drive a truck through. He tried to speak naturally as
they reached for each other beneath the bedclothes and lay close and
warm, listening to the far-away roaring until it faded with distance as
the lion moved back towards the reserve. They made love then, but
afterwards David could not sleep and he lay with Debra in his arms until
the dawn.
Still it was a week before David could bring himself to write the
letter: Dear Dr. Edelman, We agreed that I should write to you if any
change occurred in the condition of Debra's eyes, or her health.
Recently Debra was involved in unfortunate circumstances, in which she
was struck repeated heavy blows about the head and was rendered
unconscious for a period of two and half days.
She was hospitalized for suspected fracture of the skull, and
concussion, but was discharged after ten days.
This occurred about two months ago. However, I have since noticed that
her eyes have become sensitive to light. As you are well aware, this
was not previously the case, and she has showed no reaction whatsoever
until this time. She has also complained of severe headaches.
I have repeatedly tested my observations with sunlight and artificial
light, and there can be no doubt that under the stimulus of a strong
light source, the pupils of her eyes contract instantly and to the same
degree as one would expect in a normal eye.
It now seems possible that your original diagnosis might have to be
revised, but, and I would emphasize this most strongly, I feel that we
should approach this very carefully. I do not wish to awaken any false
or ill-founded hope.
For your advice in this matter I would be most grateful, and I wait to
hear from you.
Cordially yours, David Morgan.
David sealed and addressed the letter, but when he returned from the
shopping flight to Nelspruit the following week, the envelope was still
buttoned in the top pocket of his leather jacket.
The days settled into their calmly contented routine.
Debra completed the first draft of her new novel, and received a request
from Bobby Dugan to carry out a lecture tour of five major cities in the
United States. A Place of Our Own had just completed its thirty-second
week on the New York Times bestseller list, and her agent informed her
that she was hotter than a pistol.
David said that as far as he was concerned she was probably a lot hotter
than that. Debra told him he was a lecher, and she was not certain what
a nice girl like herself was doing shacked up with him. Then she wrote
to her agent, and refused the lecture tour.
Who needs people? David agreed with her, knowing that she had made the
