When he returned, she had so far mastered herself as to be able to smile
at him through her tears.
"I know I'm a drivelling idiot to cry!" she said, her voice high and
tremulous. "But I never felt so sick before!"
"Don't apologise," said West briefly. "I know."
He bathed the injury with the utmost tenderness, while she sat and
watched his stern face.
"My!" she said suddenly, with a little, shaky laugh. "You are being very
good to me, but why do you frown like that?"
He glanced at her with those piercing eyes of his.
"How did you do it?"
The colour came into her white face.
"I--was trying to spring the trap," she said, eyeing him doubtfully. "I
didn't like to think of one of those cute little rabbits getting
caught."
"Yes, but how did you manage to get your hand in the way?" said West.
She considered this problem for a little.
"I guess I can't explain that mystery to you," she said, at length. "You
see, I'm only a woman, and women often do things that are very foolish."
West's silence seemed to express tacit agreement with this assertion.
"Anyway," she resumed, making a wry face, "it's done. You are not vexed
because I made such a fuss?"
There was an odd wistfulness in her tone. West, busy bandaging, did not
raise his eyes.
"I don't blame you for that," he said. "It must have hurt you
infernally! If you take my advice, you will show it to a doctor.
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