Gonzalo with a hesitating hand pushed back the bedclothes, and proceeded to unfasten his night-shirt slowly and shyly, until he had uncovered his muscular chest.
"Nice sight before dinner!" he exclaimed shamefacedly, repeating the remark expressed by his wife.
Cecilia did not reply, but proceeded to examine the wound still half covered with the blister that Ventura did not finish removing. Then she took the scissors, and with a firm hand she snipped away what remained of it.
"Do I hurt you?" she asked.
"Not at all."
When the wound was laid bare, as large as the palm of one's hand, she gently laid the lint upon it, passed her hand several times over it to adjust it, put some linen over the lint, and without leaving off the pressure with her left hand, she took a band from the little table to keep the plaster in its place.
Then it was necessary to get the bandage round his back so as to tie it in front.
"Can't you do it?" he said, laughing nervously.
She did not reply, for she wished by her gravity to overcome the confusion to which she was a prey. She only betrayed her emotion by the slight trembling of her lips. Her eyes, half closed, shone under her long lashes with a real intense pleasure which the grave and quiet expression of her face could not conceal.
Gonzalo tried to cross the strings behind him, but it was impossible, and Cecilia came to his assistance. Her hand slightly trembled as it touched the young man's form, but she did not shrink from the performance of her task.