I have done something at it in Winnipeg." Together they removed the coat.

The shirt sleeve was hanging in a tangled, bloody mass from the arm.
"Awful!" groaned Kathleen.

"Sit down." "Oh, nonsense, it is not serious." "Sit down, Jack, dear," she entreated, clasping her hands about his sound arm.
"Say it again," said Jack.
"Oh, Jack, won't you sit down, please ?" "Say it again," he commanded sternly.
"Oh, Jack, dear, please sit down," she cried in a pitiful voice.
He sat down, then lay back reclining on his arm.

"Now your knife, Jack," she said, feeling hurriedly through his pockets.
"Here you are," he said, handing her the knife, biting his lips the while and fighting back a feeling of faintness.
Quickly slipping behind him, she whipped off her white petticoat and tore it into strips.

Then cutting the bloody shirt sleeve, she laid bare the arm.