One day it transpired that a newly-hired chambermaid, who could not understand why the landing should be be thus cluttered, removed the chair, and as he sat down on the wooden step, heavily and with a painful thump, his eyesight miraculously returned. The newspapers were full of the story and I am pleased to say that, although he remained deaf, his sight was good enough to enable him to join my father and his friends at many a game of bridge.
What about Brief Encounters?
If I may be permitted to quote from my book, When You Know That You Know That You Know! Or: The Redemption of Benjamin Ashton: "Each one of us, as we come into contact with one another, has a responsibility towards the other, whether we know it or not. Have you ever held a butterfly and noticed how some of its color comes off in your hands? I'm sure you have. But you don't even have to hold it; if it were just to fly too close to you, only brush your sleeve in passing, some of its 'butterfly dust' would have been left behind on you. In the same way, something of you will already have rubbed off on me, and you will go away carrying with you something of me. It may be a minuscule part, so small that you won't know that it is there, but it will be. We may possibly forget that we ever met, but none of us will ever be quite the same again."