But after I went to bed I lay awake a long time and thought of you--out in the night with that gun in your hand.

I can't believe that you were there simply because of a noise, as you said.

A man like you doesn't hunt for a noise with a pistol, Philip.
What is the matter with your arm ?" The directness of her question startled him.
"Why do you ask that ?" he managed to stammer.
"You have flinched twice when I touched it--this arm." "A trifle," he assured her.

"It should have healed by this time." She smiled straight up into his eyes.
"You are too true to tell me fairy stories in a way that I must believe them, Philip.

Day before yesterday your sleeves were up when you were paddling, and there was nothing wrong with this arm--this forearm--then.