Murray's
comment, "I've no doubt the arm would have had to go; but when Mrs.
Morison does a thing, it's another story."
"Humph!" sniffed she. "You've got some small amount of sense, if it
ain't much. Now, young man, set your teeth together and put out your
tongue--your arm, I mean."
Maurice smiled, not so much at the humor of the error as at the fact
that it was so evidently intentional on the part of the elderly virgin,
who cunningly glanced at him and at the doctor to discover if the rare
stroke of wit were properly appreciated.
"Jocose as ever, Mehitabel," observed the doctor, going to work at once
with swift and delicate precision. "You've a nasty cut here, Mr. Wynne;
but you're lucky to get off with nothing worse. It's a good deal to
come through such an accident without a permanent injury."
"That's true," Maurice responded cheerfully. "I dreamed in the night
that I was all in bits."
"Plenty of poor fellows were. It was the most terrible smash-up for
years."
"How is Miss Morison?" Wynne asked, wondering if his voice betrayed the
inward agitation without which he could not pronounce her name.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194