He stooped and laid masterful hold of the long handle of the brush.
"Well ?" she said, stopping perforce and looking up in surprise.
"What is it ?" "Your arm--you are burned, badly burned." Gerald made a little sound of contempt for all reply.
"It should be dressed at once.

How it must pain you!" Gerald looked at her arm reflectively.

"I haven't had time to feel," she said, vainly trying to pull her sleeve over it.

"It will make an ugly scar, won't it?
I shall have to abandon elbow sleeves.

Now please let go the brush." "Miss Vernor, why should you be so cruel to yourself?
Do go up to the doctor at once!" "And take him away from Phebe?
I will not.