A tear ran out of his eye and down the skin of his enormous, ugly face.

‘Dr Treves,’ he said, slowly. ‘You and the nurses are very kind, and I’m very happy here. Thank you very much. But... I know I can’t stay here long, and... I would like to live in a lighthouse, after the hospital, please. A lighthouse, or a home for blind people. I think those are the best places for me.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘Why?’

He did not look at me. He put the flower on the picture and looked at it carefully.

‘Lighthouses have sea all round them, don’t they?’ he said. ‘Nobody could look at me in a lighthouse, so I would be happy there. And blind people can see nothing, so they couldn’t see me, could they?’