Trusted, lifelong friends—wise and godly—urged me to do this. “Muriel would become accustomed to the new environment quickly.” Would she? Would anyone love her at all, let alone love her as I do? Would she not miss that love? I had often seen the empty, listless faces of those lined up in wheelchairs along the corridors of such places, waiting, waiting for the fleeting visit of some loved one. In such an environment, Muriel would be tamed only by drugs or bodily restraints, of that I was confident.
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