Her left brow was bleeding rather profusely.

As she glanced down at the child, her brain reeling, some drops of blood soaked into its white shawl; but the baby was at least not hurt.

She balanced her head to keep equilibrium, so that the blood ran into her eye.
Walter Morel remained as he had stood, leaning on the table with one hand, looking blank.

When he was sufficiently sure of his balance, he went across to her, swayed, caught hold of the back of her rocking-chair, almost tipping her out; then leaning forward over her, and swaying as he spoke, he said, in a tone of wondering concern: "Did it catch thee ?" He swayed again, as if he would pitch on to the child.

With the catastrophe he had lost all balance.
"Go away," she said, struggling to keep her presence of mind.
He hiccoughed.